


A Vulgar Display of Power

by Avdal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Sir General Challenge, Deepthroating, F/M, Face-Fucking, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot Devices, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Tags May Change, Video Cameras, Voyeurism, so much sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avdal/pseuds/Avdal
Summary: What happens when a First Order officer is constantly harassed by her ex boyfriend while the great General Hux has just been very publicly dumped by his fiancée?The answer is obvious: they get together and make some revenge porn.





	1. Exes Are the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ElmiDol for her Sir General Challenge. 
> 
> Sorry this took me forever and a day to get out, writing smut isn't easy for me and it takes a correct lunar and celestial alignment for me to be able to force myself to do it, lol

“Have you ever done something you really, _really_ regret, Sir?”

 

“I assume that's not a serious question, Officer.”

 

“Um... well, it's more like a misunderstanding.”

 

“Misunderstanding? A second ago it was a mistake.”

 

“No! Well, yes...Both maybe...” You start stumbling over your own words, completely thrown by the General's sudden interruption into what had already been an unpleasant morning.

 

“Sir,” you try again, “it's nothing that concerns you. You really don't have to worry about it.”

 

“Everything that concerns my crew concerns me. Especially allegations like the one you made yesterday.” He pauses to glance down at the datapad in his hand. “Consistent sexual harassment from a fellow officer. You allege over 80 incidents over the last few months, yet are only filing a complaint now, is that correct?”

 

You flush hot and cold. Infuriated that your situation is being treated like a baseless lie, but also at a loss of why the General himself is involved with it.

 

“I had hoped he would get tired of it and leave me alone, Sir.”

 

“ _He_? You know the individual _personally_ I take it? ”

 

You nod tightly, glancing between the general and the two stormtroopers flanking him. At least they form some sort of barrier between you and the gossip brigade of your coworkers behind them. 

 

“Yes, Sir,” you keep your voice very quiet. “It's just... my Ex. He's been harassing me.”

 

The General turns back to you, locking you back into your little corner of extreme discomfort. “And what is the thing that you _'really, really regret'_ , Officer?”

 

“I didn't mean to bother _you_ with this problem, Sir. I reported the incidents to your secretary and I'd assumed-”

 

“That she'd send them to the appropriate channels to handle this sort of complaint? Yes, normally that's what would happen. Except,” he lifts his datapad and taps the screen a few times, “it becomes rather hard for me to ignore when I have a message like _t_ _his_ sent to me.”

 

He flips the screen towards you and you cringe sharply. You already half knew what to expect, your Ex had been boasting about doing it for weeks, but seeing it displayed like that on your boss's datapad. In all it's candid glory...

 

“Sir, I-”

 

“ _Officer_ ,” he interrupts you, shoving the image closer to your face. You recoil as far as the edge of your desk allows. “Can you explain to me _why_ I was sent this?”

  
You fidget in your chair, legs itching to stand so he doesn't tower over you in such an imposing way. “No Sir, I can't.”

 

“No? And so you can't explain how it was sent to my _private_ address, either?” 

 

Y ou  shake your head.

 

“I see.” He gestures with his datapad towards a paper on your desk. The movement makes the image on the screen bob up and down in the worst of ways. “Turn that over and show it to me, Officer.”

 

This whole time you'd been trying to ignore the folded paper your elbow had strategically rested on. Yet another “gift” from your Ex. Taped to your monitor where everyone could -and undoubtedly _did_ \- take a good look at it.

 

“Sir-”

 

“That was an order.” 

 

He shifts his weight from his left foot to the right. It serves to block more of the view from prying eyes and you cringe as you pick up the paper. If anyone had seen the page in the split second when you turned it over and before you slammed your palm down over it, they might have thought the two of you were discussing a Georgia O'Keefe print. 

 

“Sir, I can explain!” you blurt out, only to be silenced by him grabbing your wrist and yanking your hand aside. 

 

You look away helplessly as he sets the datapad next to the paper and leans over, studying them side by side. There might have been a time and a place you wouldn't have minded the General examining your image so closely. However, now during the early morning shift and in front of all your fellow officers definitely wasn't it.

 

“Absolutely identical,” the General finally announces, after an agonizingly long minute of contemplation. “Do you know what the penalty for promoting pornography is, Officer?” He leans even closer to the paper, turning it from side to side as he examines it again. 

  
“ I wasn't, Sir!”  you protest, trying unsuccessfully to pull your wrist out of his grasp. “It's my  E x! He keeps...” 

 

You're not sure how to finish that sentence. Keeps harassing you? Blackmailing you? Technically both, though “being hellbent on ruining your life” fits the bill also.

 

“So am I to assume this is _you_ in these pictures then?” His voice is a s neutral as ever, but there's the tiniest tilt to one side of his mouth. You would never be able to notice it if he wasn't hovering so close to you.

 

And what are you even supposed to say to that? _Yes General, my Ex used to take a bajillion dirty photos of me and I forgot to delete them from his computer_ _when we broke up_ _?_

 

“I don't know, Sir.” The words come out in a high squeak.

 

“The penalty for lying to your superiors is _much_ worse than the penalty for pornography, Officer.” 

 

He lets go of your hand to drag the paper across your desk and directly in front of you. The very specific placement of his spread index and pointer fingers upon the surface of the image distracts you momentarily from his words.

 

Then he presses hard against the back of your neck, forcing you to lean closer to the rosy image on the page. “Look closer, Officer, and tell me if that's you or not.”

 

You squeeze your eyes shut, hopelessly wishing that one of the worst moments of your life would just end. 

 

“Yes, Sir. I believe it is.” You pray against all logic that no one else in the room can hear.

 

“Are you sure, Officer?” He taps the picture for emphasis, happening to touch exactly on your-

 

“Yes! I'm sure, Sir!” 

 

H e lets go over your neck, sending you lurching back into your chair again,  and picks up his datapad .  “And these videos are also yours, I assume?”

 

Your stomach drops as he swipes along the screen. Videos?  Your Ex wouldn't dare send...  _ohfucknohetotallywould..._

 

“I was drunk!” you blurt out, standing up and catching his wrist as he's about to press the triangle on the center of the screen. A sharp kick to the back of your knees from one of the stormtroopers sends you flopping back into your chair.

 

“So that's a confirmation, then?” 

 

He  shoves the screen into your face and you can't shake the feeling of being disciplined like a pet that's made a mess on the carpet.  The  paused  image is exactly what you were afraid of: one of your and Ex's 'home movies'.

 

“Yes Sir,” you mumble under your breath, “that's me, too.”

 

With that, he finally pulls away from your personal space. Slowly scans you from head to toe before leaning over and picking up the paper on your desk. He places it on top of his datapad and snaps the case closed.

 

“I see,” he turns and takes a step from you, the stormtroopers moving aside to make room. “In that case we will continue this in my office. Follow me.” He begins walking away, a sudden flurry of faked activity from your coworkers filling the previously church-quiet room.

 

When you stay rooted to your seat he looks over his shoulder and glares at you. “ _Right_ _now_ , Officer.”

 

You scramble to your feet, quickly switching off your work station and trotting after him. Just as you round the corner to the hallway a soft roar of hushed voices fills the room behind you. 

 

Logic would reason that the crew of a star destroyer would have something better to do with their time than gossip. Logic would be wrong. 

 

*

 

As soon as you step through the door into the General’s office you're confronted by what could only be described as a gallery of porn. _Your_ porn, specifically. A huge arrangement of dirty photos spread out along his desk in perfectly aligned rows.

 

The General places the latest picture, the one you'd tried to hide from him, on the last empty spot at a corner of his desk. He pulls out the chair in front of you and gestures towards it.

 

“Sir...” You reluctantly sit down and stare at a non-existent spot on the far wall. “I can explain all of these-”

 

You're interrupted by a wave of his hand. “I suppose you've heard of the difficulties that I've been having in my personal life?” 

 

His question catches you off guard, and when you turn to look at him he grabs you by the shoulders and rotates your chair back to face the spectacle on his desk. You stare at your shoes, unsure of what response is expected or appropriate. _Of course_ you'd heard about it. The great General Hux dumped by his fiancee. Cast aside for a younger man. 

 

“He was twenty-four,” the General comments, hands squeezing you slightly. 

 

“Sir?”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Um... twenty-two, Sir.” 

 

“Twenty-two. Hmm...” The corners of his mouth lift a fraction and he looks from you to his desk and back again. “So what do you think about that, Officer?”

 

A wild idea of where this conversation might be going crosses your mind. You've never been in trouble at your job before, but you're pretty sure there aren't this many porn pics involved in a formal censure. 

 

“About what, Sir?”

 

“My fiancee leaving me for a younger man. I'm sure the crew have been talking about it.”

 

Yeah, no shit they've been talking. As soon as the news broke it spread across the ship faster than a fire in an oxygen rich environment. You hadn't specifically cared that much, but had been grateful that it had slowed down some of the watercooler gossip about your own Ex situation.

 

He rotates your chair to face him. “She was a big fan of yours. Did you know that?” 

 

You frown, starting to lose the plot.

 

“Of your videos,” he clarifies. “And the pictures. Them as well.”

 

You blink repeatedly, trying to figure out what he means. Then the realization dawns and you try to offer yet another apology. 

 

He lightly taps your chin, closing your jaw.

 

“She had found them on my computer. The photos that your _“Ex”_ had been sending me. At first she thought I was having an affair with you, isn't that ironic?” 

 

You try to say “I don't understand,” but with your jaw held closed the words are a mostly incoherent murmur. 

 

“When I'd convinced her otherwise, she'd wanted to watch the videos. She seemed to find them quite... titillating.”

 

He stares over at his desk again. You feel your face flush. Try to pull away from him but he grips you harder, pushing you so far back you'd tip out of the chair if he wasn't supporting you.

 

“Do you know which of your videos was her favorite?”

 

You shake your head. Or at least try to. You and Ex had made quite a few videos. Most of them highly themed roleplaying fantasies. 

 

“The one where you're the naughty Resistance spy and your partner is the First Order soldier who converts you to our cause. With his cock.” 

 

You wince. Gods, hearing the summary makes it sound even worse. 

 

But both his choice of topic and words are giving you a clearer idea of why he's brought you in here. You swallow down the tightness rising in your throat. 

 

“How is it that _I'm_ the one in trouble for this, Sir? My Ex was the one taking the photos and sending them to you. Shouldn't he be-”

 

“And whose pussy is this?” He taps on the picture closest to you. “Yours or his?”

 

A full body flush breaks out over you, half from embarrassment and half from blameless anger. You have to bite back the first, second, and third responses that jump to mind.

 

He taps the page a second time, directing you attention to it. You glance down then immediately look away. That particular picture was by far the most explicit. It was the only one where you were-

 

“I _should_ have you transferred,” he tells you. “There's more than enough grounds for it. Send you off to some cold and remote location where it's harder for you to publicly shame our organization. Does that seem like a fair punishment?” 

 

You don't know where to look. Eye-contact feels inappropriate, but then again so is everything else that's happened since you stepped into this room. “Whatever you think is best, Sir.”

 

“Perhaps you would like to make a plea deal, instead?” He steps closer, next to the side of your armrest. Making you scoot to the opposite edge of the chair to keep your space.

 

He taps his foot next to yours, making a show of being annoyed with you. But his eyes keep tracking down to your mouth and back in a declaration of intent.

 

“On what terms, Sir? What exactly do I have to do?”

 

“I already told you my fiancee was a fan of yours.”

 

You frown, assuming he's not about to ask for an autograph. 

 

“...Okay. So what do you want?”

 

“Sir.”

 

“What do you want, Sir?”

 

“Nothing you haven't done before,” he assures, trailing his hand to your closer ear and tugging on the lobe to make you look up. 

 

“You... want to make her jealous.” 

 

He nods with a hint of a smirk, letting go of you to pick up his datapad from on top of his desk. It's handed to you and you're once again presented with the paused image of you and your Ex intertwined.

 

“Play it.” 

 

It's an order, not a request, and it carries in implicit threat along with it. Still, you hesitate. And _fuck your life_ , if you'd known this was going to happen you'd have kept your damn mouth shut and let your Ex post your twat pics onto your workstation to his heart's content.

 

“Officer...” He warns you again, and you reluctantly reach out and tap the screen. The sounds of your enthusiastic moaning and Ex's raspy praises fill the office.

 

The General watches your reaction more than the bouncing couple on the screen. Guess he must have seen this one before.

 

You flinch to the sound of Ex slapping your ass. “Okay, Sir. You've made your point.”

 

“Have I, Officer? Are you sure?” He taps his fingers on the pause button but leaves them hovering over it in a clear warning. “And what is it that you think I want? Tell me and we'll discuss the terms of your plea.”

 

“You...want me to fuck you on camera and make your fiancee jealous?” You hadn't meant it to sound like a question. It was actually pretty much obvious. 

 

“Ex-fiancee,” he corrects. “And no, _I_ will be fucking _you_ on camera, not the other way around.”

 

You can't quite stop the roll of your eyes. Of course that he'd be such a control freak that he'd split hairs on the exact phrasing.

 

But you don't have much choice but to play along. Being transferred would be career suicide, and you have a sinking suspicion on which particular ice planet he was talking about.

 

“Perhaps, Sir, I could...” your voice trails off as your nerve falters. He cocks his head to the side and waits.

 

“Perhaps, I could _convince_ you of my dedication. Show you how seriously I take our reputation.”

 

“And how will you do that?” he asks. “I won't be convinced just by pretty words.

 

He steps between your legs, shoving them wider apart with the outside of his knees. You'd hoped that he would make the first move. Direct you through this next step so you don't have to put yourself out there completely.

 

You bite your lip. Hoping. He waits. Okay, he really is an asshole. Rumor confirmed. But either you're going to successfully seduce him or he was just jerking your chain the whole time and this will be added on to your list of indiscretions. 

 

“Perhaps you'd like a rehearsal, Sir?” A leap of faith, trusting that he won't use your own words and willingness against you.

 

“Are you afraid of getting performance anxiety, (L/N)?”

 

It's the first time he's said your real name. You're shocked that he even knows what it is. He smiles ever so slightly and it's such an out of place expression.

 

“Not at all, Sir.” You try to sound alluring. Hopefully at least you come across as more confident than you really feel.

 

He pretends to think about it for a second.

 

“Go over there and sit down.”

 

He motions to somewhere behind his desk. At the far end of the room is a small sofa. It matches the simple and chic décor of the rest of the room and it looks like it's barely ever been used.

 

_Well then_... best get on with it, you suppose. In a different context you'd have made a “casting couch” joke but now that would probably make you even more anxious.

 

The General doesn't move when you stand up, bringing you uneasily close together. He follows directly behind you as walk, keeping his hand ghosting lightly over the small of your back. 

 

You sit down right on the edge of the sofa and rest your elbows on your knees. He stands in front of you and sneers down at you. The positioning bringing your face strategically level with his crotch.

 

“Nervous?” He voice is now a little deeper so at least you must be doing something right.

 

“Not at all, Sir,” you repeat. 

 

He places a hand on your head. You press your lips together tightly as he pets you, then he cups the back of your skull and pulls you forwards in a way that's indisputable in meaning.

 

With an exhale you reach out, skimming your fingers along the edge of his belt before untucking his pristinely pressed shirt from his waistband. You glance at him to make sure this is okay and he taps the bridge of your nose with the knuckle of his index finger. Was... that a yes?

 

“Don't be shy, Officer. We're going to need to get better acquainted for this to work.” 

 

He's right. He's right and he catches your hand and brings it to his fly. You buy yourself a little time by rubbing the front of his pants. Cupping the bulge there and working it through the fabric.

 

Yeah, okay, you're plenty nervous. But _fuck_ _it_ , if you can't even give him a practice blowjob now how the hell will you be able to screw him on camera later? And there's something to be said about getting the awkward 'getting to know you' parts of this deal out of the way early.

 

Feeling bolstered by your self pep talk, you try to relax and lean forward. Catch the top of his zipper with your teeth and drag it down. 

 

He huffs out a laugh and you blush. Trying to act like a porn star for him sending an anxious fluttering into your stomach. He pushes your forehead back enough for him to help you out and free himself from his pants. His half-erect cock greets you and fight your nerves back down. Guess it's too late to back out of this now. 

 

So you tilt your head and kiss him. Light little pecks to the base that turn sloppier and open-mouthed as you move up towards the tip. 

 

“Like this, Sir?” 

 

Maybe you're trying to flirt, and maybe you're seeking approval. Either way, the General snorts and fists your hair, pulling hard on your scalp.

 

“If that's all you have to offer, you might as leave and I'll finish this myself.” 

 

It's clearly an empty threat because, before you have the chance to answer, he shoves himself into your mouth again. Mostly letting you set your own pace but also giving no opportunity for you to take him up on the option to leave.

 

Then he touches himself below your mouth, his hand pumping in tandem with your movements and together you work him to full firmness.

 

It's such an odd feeling. The sensation of him actually growing harder against your lips and tongue. Feeling how the skin of his cock swells and stretches under your combined affections. It's all so bizarre you pull away, wrinkling your nose, and he catches your chin to tip your head up.

 

“Offic-”

 

Whatever quip he was about to make dies in his throat as you nibble on the tips of his fingers. Sucking the index and middle into your mouth down to the knuckle. Trying to twirl your tongue around them in what's meant to be an enticing preview of what's to come.

 

“Very nice, Officer.” 

 

He sounds excessively smug but maybe he realized you were needing some reassurance. But there was no telling how much of your lingual gymnastics he actually felt through the leather of his gloves. 

 

You smile up at him and he shakes his head. 

 

“Yes, yes, you're doing very well. Now get back to work.” He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and cradles the back of your head, tapping the head of his cock against your lips.

 

You grip the base to steady it, hollowing your cheeks and sinking halfway down. Trying to keep as much pressure in your mouth as you can while your hand works the lower half. Deepthroating was never a skill you'd mastered. Even in your videos you'd choose strategic angles for the camera to look like you were taking on more than you really were.

 

That's something that the General apparently wasn't aware of. He pushes hard, sinking his nails into your scalp when you struggle and pull away before you gag. 

 

“ _Sir-_ ” 

 

“Shut up.” 

 

He shoves you back down. To make up for your shortcomings you pump him firmly, trying to recall everything that your Ex had liked with oral. Remembering to use a rising pressure, looser at the base to keep from restricting the blood flow. Bury the tip in your mouth, sucking hard and playing your tongue along the looser skin there. 

 

The General clicks his tongue and you remember you should look up frequently, too. Give him lots of eye contact like a proper porn star.

 

He looks angry, lips curled in a faint snarl. But his breathing is faster and ragged and the hand buried in your hair rubs your scalp in circles. Go figure that he'd look pissed off when he's turned on. 

 

“Hurry up,” he orders, growing tired of your teasing.

 

Such a control freak. But of course he would be, wouldn't he?

 

You take him to the far edge of what's comfortably deep and press hard with your tongue. Rotating your head from side to side to keep him soaked while your hand makes up the difference. A twist of the wrist and a light but constant friction. That's the trick. It would be easier with lube, but lots of saliva will do in a pinch. 

 

You must be performing well because he keeps petting you, stroking your hair and tucking it behind your ears. Other than his breath being slightly raspier than usual, he still appears completely pristine when you look at him.

 

But he's throbbing hard in your mouth and that's enough for you to prove your point. You pull off of him, giving your jaw a break and rubbing your cheek against him while rubbing from root to tip. 

 

You're trying to think of a genteel way to ask “do you want to cum in my mouth or on my face?” that doesn't make you sound like a complete slut-whore when a vicious yank to your hair pulls you up so hard you yelp.

 

“Ow! _What_ _are you-_ ”

 

“If you're going to half-ass this the deal's off.” 

 

He yanks your head back further and you squeeze your eyes shut as your hair nearly gets pulled out.

 

“I wasn't! What is your-”

 

He yanks again, this time pulling you forward. Burying your face against his crotch as you try to scramble back and regain your balance. A gloved finger is shoved between your teeth and he yanks your jaw down.

 

“Either open up and suck or get the hell out of my office.”

 

_ And deal with the consequences. _ That's the un spoken part of his demand. 

 

You swallow.  Just...  _ fuck _ .  The man's a  complete and  total asshole.  B ut whatever, you might as well finish what you'd started  while you still have some hair attached to your head.

 

You take him into your mouth again, ignoring his saccharine praise, and start pumping your head and hand together. Not bothering to limit the amount of friction you create as you move more aggressively.

 

He seems to enjoy your new roughness. Swelling even more in your mouth as his nails sink paths in your skin. The engorged head nudges against the back of your throat and you feel a small amount of precum trickling down. It makes you squirm, getting a little hot and bothered even if you're still pissed off and your scalp hurts.

 

You take as much of him into your throat as you can, wondering how close is he. He's panting and occasionally growling insults at you which is the most reaction he's shown this  far.  Y ou decide to  be generous and  let him finish in your mouth. You  _were_ going to let him pick  his spot , but  oh no, not anymore. Complete and total assholes don't get to choose where they c um on you.

 

“That's enough,” the General abruptly orders. Pulling you off him and away again, this time with less force.

 

He glares down at you. You return the glare back up at him and make a spectacle of wiping your mouth with the palm of your hand. His mouth twitches and he takes a step, clearly finding walking uncomfortable with his angry, purple erection bobbing with each step.

 

“Is anything wrong, Sir?” 

 

You'd thought you were doing well. He'd practically been pounding your mouth like a rented gong. That has to have been a good sign, right?

 

“Lie down,” he orders. You watch restlessly as he fists himself, tugging on his length much slower than you'd been working him.

 

“I'm not going to fuck you until we're on camera, Sir.” 

 

He never takes his gaze from yours or his hand off his cock. “Give me your foot.”

 

You blink, baffled by the strange demand. Okay, so now you're doing some freaky shit or something? Figures that your great General would have some weird fetishes. 

 

But you obligingly scoot down to you elbows, lifting one foot to him and expecting him to either give you more instructions or just jerk himself over it. 

 

Instead, he grabs your ankle. Roughly yanks you onto your back and drags you along until you're laying flat across the couch. Your heart starts beating in your throat and you cringe when he steps next to the edge of the seat. “Sir, we had-”

 

“ _I_ am the one that fucks _you_ , Officer. I won't remind you of that again. Now strip.”

 

_What_ _the_... oh _g_ _ods_ , the man is a fucking prick. He's absolutely ridiculous. 

 

“Strip,” he orders for the second time, yanking off the shoe from the foot he's holding while his other hand continues to lazily touch himself.

 

This situation seems to have escalated beyond your control very quickly, but you shimmy out of your clothes before he has to repeat himself. Unbuttoning and removing your shirt while he pulls off your other shoe and tosses it carelessly behind him.

 

“What now, Sir?” you ask, trying to gauge his intentions. Is he really going to pin you down and fuck you senseless or is this just another power game for him? If he would only let you suck him off like you'd wanted to this whole debacle would be over already and you could have finished yourself off in your quarters alone.

 

“Everything else.” He gestures towards the rest of your clothes while straightening his hair with his unoccupied hand.

 

You unbutton your pants and lift your hips so he can slide them off you. They join the other pieces on the floor and you yank your undershirt over your head next.

 

You're slightly breathless and very anxious as you lean back against the couch cushions. Naked except for your bra and panties. Unfortunately they're the standard regulation dark grey set, but at least they match. Judging by the rather wicked glare you receive from the General he doesn't appear to mind.

 

And this is _so awkward_. You absentmindedly toy with your bra straps and let his eyes rake over you. The urge to cover yourself with your arms is strong but you fight it. He probably wants to see you.

 

“Do you like it, Sir?” you ask. Then wince. _Oh kriff_ , you really are an approval whore aren't you? 

 

“Yes. Very lovely, Officer.” Despite your brief wrestling match, he seems to have recovered most of his composure. “You look even better than in your videos.”

 

An inappropriately wide grin breaks out over your face at his words. Okay, _maybe_ you have a bit of a praise kink. Apparently. So you decide to flirt a little more and see how he responds.

 

“How about my pictures, Sir?” One of your hands drops to the band of your panties. Tapping your fingers against your lower stomach. “How do those compare?”

 

A smirk, and he flickers his gaze from your hand to your tits to your face. “Show me.” 

 

It's an extremely vulnerable position he has you in, but that's undoubtedly the point of all this. Just to be coy, you stick your hand inside your panties. Stroking yourself underneath the fabric and trying not to let the fierce blush breaking out across your skin ruin the intended effect. 

 

You're wet. You knew you would be. It's been nearly three long months since your breakup and, even though your Ex was a real jerk, you kind of missed having a cock in your life. 

 

“Don't be shy,” he tells you, moving even closer. “Show yourself to me.” 

 

Another order from your future co-star. Everything about this whole situation is so scary and hot. And quickly diverging into uncharted territories. 

 

You bring your hand out of your panties, wriggling deeper into the cushions for what little modesty they offer. He probably wants you to present your fingers to him or suck them. 

 

Instead, you place your hand over your bra. Gently circling the fabric and letting him see the wet shadow left by the contact.

 

Now he leans over you, placing one hand on the top edge of the couch while the other keeps his cock entertained. “Take them off.”

 

You pull down the cups of your bra just enough for your nipples to pop out. He looks at them then back to your face. 

 

Keep going? Yeah, okay, keep going.

 

In one of the pornos you'd watched with Ex, the woman had made a big deal of slowly stripping for her man. At the time you'd thought it was silly and counterproductive to the main event. But now you slowly drag your hands across the planes of your abdomen. Rolling your shoulders from side to side as you raise your hips a fraction. 

 

The General gazes at you impassively. Watching as your thumbs catch the top edge of your panties. You can feel his breath fan across your skin and it makes you even more self conscious.

 

“ _Sir..._ ”

 

You don't know how to say it. _Help me so I don't have to do_ _all_ _this myself..._ It would be so much easier if he'd just... take over. Or something. 

 

But the words won't form and you can't look away from his well-stroked cock which is impatiently hovering over your stomach. He looks down at you and for a few seconds you have an oddly intense moment of shared eye contact. Then he lets go of himself to catch one of your wrists. Moves it to the side and snags the side edge of your underwear between his thumb and forefinger.

 

The unexpected roughness from earlier is long forgotten as he skims your hip, dragging the dark cotton fabric of your panties down and off. You help him as he goes, but when your lower half is fully bare you press your legs together, bringing them towards your chest partway.

 

“And I thought you said you weren't shy?” His voice sounds almost teasing. “You certainly weren't before.”

 

Before meaning your videos. “That was different,” is the only response you can form as his hand skims your knee and slowly slides itself between your clenched legs.

 

“What do I want, (L/N)?” His hand can't get further than mid-thigh without you relaxing. His fingers wiggle, tickling the sensitive skin. “Tell me what I want from you. That's an order.”

 

Several deep breaths are necessary before you can speak. “You want to fuck me,” you say, making sure to get the terms right this time so he doesn't flip his switch again.

 

He smiles, letting go of himself to rub circles on your calf with his other palm. Your heart does a little flip in your throat. “No, Officer. I want you to touch yourself.”

 

Strong hands cradle each knee and you only half fight him as he spreads you open. Your fingers dig into the soft fabric below you and you turn to stare at the backrest. You're pulled wide apart, one leg getting hooked on the General's arm and the other raised and placed on top edge of the couch.

 

You'd been nearly breathless before, but now you're practically gasping as he tips his head and inspects your pussy. There's nowhere near enough air in the room and you would have clamped your legs shut if it wasn't for his hands holding your thighs to keep you open.

 

“It really is you, isn't it?” He blows on your cunt, reminding you of how wet you are despite your embarrassment. 

 

Your tongue is like a cottonball in your mouth. “Sir?” 

 

“Definitely not a case of mistaken identity.”

 

It takes you a moment to register his meaning.

 

“How long have you been...” 

 

“For months, Officer. Your “ex” had been sending me those delightful pictures for months. It wasn't until I received your harassment complaint yesterday that I figured out whose pretty little pussy had been gracing my screen for so long.”

 

“ _Oh... gods_...” you reach down to cover yourself with your hand. You hear the General laugh above you but your eyes are closed.

 

“Let me see you, (L/N). I want to see you in real life. Naked before me and ruining my upholstery.” 

 

He picks up your hand and lifts it off. You grip the armrest above you as you feel his breath fanning over your sensitive skin.

 

“It's your own damn fault...” your voice wavers as a gloved finger traces down your slit, “your own damn fault for choosing suede.”

 

He snorts. Catches your middle finger between his and guides it to your clit. “It was my decorator's idea. I hadn't planned on it getting _this_ type of use. Now touch yourself.”

 

He lets go and one of the hands on your legs moves. You open your eyes and watch as he takes himself in hand again. 

 

His cock hasn't gone down a millimeter since you had it in your mouth and the sight alone is enough to make your stomach clench. _Okay... Deep breath_. You start to rub yourself, working your clit in circles.

 

“ _Sir..._ ”

 

“Good girl.”

 

It should be so awkward. It _is_ so awkward. But it's what your General wants and you aim to please.

 

You sink your middle finger inside yourself. Pump it in and out a few times before adding your index finger along with it. Your pussy grips them in gratitude but it's not nearly enough. Not when there's a beautiful, hard cock waiting above you.

 

“Sir, I...” you whimper, biting your lower lip as your rub your G-spot. Enjoying stimulation to there usually takes a while, but your full-body tension is giving it an edge.

 

“Stop thinking so much and just enjoy yourself, Officer.”

 

A hand traces your face. The General looks as in control as ever which seems highly unfair. You add in a third finger and push them deeper into of you. The width is alright, but your cunt still aches for more.

 

A hand lightly stops your movements. He pulls your fingers out of your body, this time bringing them to his mouth and kissing them clean. It's the closest thing to an affectionate gesture you've gotten from him this far. 

 

Your damp hand gets placed on your stomach and he taps your clit with the pad of his thumb. You moan, unable to find words, but more than ready to wrap your legs over his shoulders while he fucks you into his ridiculous suede cushions.

 

“Oh _gods_ , Sir!” You whimper when he circles your hole, dipping the tip of his finger just inside and playing with the tense entrance. His smug leer only making you wetter.

 

“Your pussy looks lonely. Would you like me to give it some company?”

 

_Oh fuck y_ _es._ You're twitching under him, bucking your hips up to get at least a little relief every time he penetrates past your opening.

 

“You have to tell me. Simply soaking through my upholstery isn't good enough.”

 

You bite the fleshy part of your free hand. It's enough to bring you back to form coherent thoughts once more.

 

“Yes, Sir. Please. Fuck me.”

 

“No. Not until we're on camera, (L/N). Just like you'd insisted.” He rubs inside of you in circles, pressing against your top wall and drawing shapes. “Now would you like me to fill this hole or not?”

 

A finger is thrust into you. You can't tell if it's just one or two, but he feels infinitely better than your own hand.

 

“Nnnhhh... yessir...” you mumble around your palm, struggling to catch your breath. 

 

He adjusts his grip and this time another finger is definitely added. Stretching your entrance as he scissors inside you. Your inner walls start to quiver already. Normally it wouldn't happen this quickly, but the added adrenaline of the situation makes every tremble all the more intense.

 

Of course, being the complete and total asshole that he is, the General removes his fingers just as you were beginning to _really_ get into it. Without another word he steps up and away, leaving you to go to his desk.

 

You lay there staring at the ceiling. Unwilling to either cover yourself or finish yourself without him. A soft knocking sound, then a rustle, and you realize that he's searching for something in one of the drawers.

 

He returns to you promptly, clasping two very different looking dildos in his hand. They are placed on your stomach and he kneels next to you. 

 

In an almost detaches manner you watch how the objects rise and fall against your belly with each of your breaths. The General begins to stroke himself again, his free hand skimming over the toys before moving to play with your nipples.

 

“Which one do you like better, Officer?” he asks. 

 

You raise your head up to look at them, shifting one elbow underneath you as a support. The first choice is stainless steel and of an oddly long but narrow shape with a completely circular head. It feels cool against your skin and is so curved that you immediately reject it.

 

“The purple one, Sir,” you request. 

 

“Are you sure? The metal one is good for cervical stimulation.”

 

He says it so matter of factly. You blink twice. He catches your expression and shakes his head.

 

“You “Ex” wasn't very well endowed was he?”

 

 _'He was fine'_ you want to say, but then why are you defending that jerk anyhow?

 

“I don't understand, Sir,” is what you settle on. “Wouldn't you know?”

 

“I wasn't looking at _him_ , (L/N).” He cocks his head. Redirects his attention from between your legs to back to your face. 

 

“Do you like having your cervix played with?” he asks.

 

You shake your head. You're aware of the concept but... it sounds really uncomfortable.

 

The General seems almost disappointed. He even gives the borderline haze of a pout for a second. Okay, so he _does_ have some weird kinks.

 

He rolls his shoulders and picks the metal device off you, placing it on the ground by the legs of the couch. “Perhaps next time,” he says. “You're too tense now, anyhow. It would hurt you if we tried.”

 

You nod, not completely following what he was saying. Somehow the mood in the room keeps shifting from hot sex to angry wrestling to weird clinical detachment. The unpredictability makes your blood cool down a little and you wriggle on the cushions.

 

He ignores your fidgeting, instead picking up the purple dildo and regarding it. You hadn't really looked at it before, but it's shorter and much fatter than the strange metal apparatus. Several wide rings adorn the base and you guess this one is designed to tickle your G-spot.

 

“I like that one, Sir.” 

 

“Do you?” he asks, bringing it closer to you and letting you see it better.

 

You nod. Spread your legs wider. An odd thought about why he keeps sex toys in his office flickers around your mind before you shove it aside.

 

He moves between your legs and you have to look away as you feel the smooth silicone glide over your slit. It slides back and forth, becoming coated with your own slickness. “You're doing wonderfully. Don't be so nervous. ”

 

You blush. “I... I'm not, Sir.”

 

“You're shaking.”

 

“I'm sorry, Sir.”

 

The corners of his mouth lift. “Don't be. Just relax.”

 

The tip of the toy presses inside your entrance and you grip the couch cushions tightly. Enjoying the pleasant burn of being stretched but also overwhelmed by how vulnerable you are at this moment.

 

“Officer...” his voice trails off. You realize you'd be unconsciously trying to close your legs together around his hand. 

 

_ I'm sorry, Sir. _

 

“ _Relax.”_

 

The toy gets pressed in a little more and your stomach does a flip-flop.  It makes the General sigh and  he  reaches for one  of your hands, pulling it free of its death-grip on the cushion. Places it flat across the top of your pussy.

 

“Why don't you play with yourself, Officer? That's an order.”

 

Wow.  And so you just got ordered by your boss to touch yourself while he fucks you with a dildo. That really happened.  _Okay then..._

 

A shaky exhale and your rub your clit. Staring at a shadow on the ceiling and trying to let go.

 

Your efforts have a dual effect. They start to warm you again and your pussy twitches against its new occupant. But it also makes your muscles clamp down, drawing out a prolonged hiss from you as the General slides it in all the way.

 

His other hand grabs under your ass and makes you twist your hips from side to side. Letting you feel each of the ridges and rings of the object buried so deeply inside you.

 

“Is that good, Officer?”

 

You nod, flushing from the new stimulation and feeling your cunt slick even more. You can feel it leaking out of your entrance and dribbling down the crack of your ass. You're probably going to have to flip the cushion over when you're done. 

 

In one swift move the toy gets pulled out of you and your breath falters. Little twitches come from your inner walls and your hand freezes over your clit. The General looks at you with a raised eyebrow. Waiting.

 

“ _Sir..._ ” If he wants you to beg you're more than willing to. “ _Please..._ ”

 

“Keep going?” The tip is rubbed in a circle around your entrance, making you ache with anticipation.

 

“Yes Sir, please. It felt so good.”

 

He smiles, pushing it back in. Pressing it as far as it can go. 

 

You moan loudly for him, letting your eyes flutter shut as you rub your clit and grind your hips. The hand that had been holding your knee open is moved and you guess by his huff that he's touching himself again. 

 

The pace he picks is slow but steady, fucking you along the whole depth of your passage. It _really_ is a well designed toy. The flare at the head making your deepest parts quiver while the rings at the base keep your G-spot in constant stimulation.

 

“You're beautiful, (L/N).” His voice is a low rumble and the words makes your insides clench, increasing the friction in your pussy.

 

You throw your head back and moan, feeling the pleasure begin to build. Your body starts to tremble, this time in the nicest possible of ways.

 

Pulses of ecstasy run along your whole cunt, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Part of you can't believe you're about to have an orgasm like _this_. With your boss watching as he hollows you out with that beautiful fucking toy. 

 

“ _Sir...”_

 

“Gods you're a mess, Officer. Look at you, can't even speak.” He keeps pressing the toy into you, steadily increasing the rhythm. In and out. In and out. Sawing against your insides and making your muscles spasm.

 

_ Ohgods!  _ You're not sure if you say it out loud or not. Your whole body  tries to tense,  beginning with the tips of your toes  right up  to the sharp arch in your  neck.

 

“Fuck...” 

 

A leather clad hand cups your face. You look at him through slitted eyes. 

 

“Hurry up, Officer,” he orders, and for the very first time he's a little less than perfectly composed. His heavily swollen cock bobs against your side as he moves his hand to squeeze your throat.

 

_ Oh _ . He wants you to cum first. Such a gentleman. 

 

The speed changes and now he's slamming the dildo into you. So fast and rough it would have hurt if you weren't already so close. The knot of tension builds even more, settling at the very furthest part of your passage. Each time it gets touched it makes you clench even tighter and you wonder if that's what he was talking about when-

 

Apparently you're taking too long. He suddenly gets impatient and lets go of your neck to shove your hand aside. Pinches hard on your clit and rolls it between his fingers. 

 

“ _Oh gods SIR!_ ” you shriek, bucking your hips against him. 

 

Your whole back arches off the cushions as your orgasm surges through you. He presses hard on your clit, grinding his palm to amplify each wave. His other hand thrusts the dildo even further, pressing it against that spot. You can feel his fingers inside you as well, pushing as far as they can go.

 

It makes you cry out. Scrabbling your hands against him as the sweet ache becomes unbearable. He keeps you suspended like that for as long as you can stand, and only when you start to plead and whine does he let up.

 

The dildo is left in you, your walls continuously flexing around it. He only allows you a few heaving breaths to collect yourself before he sinks one hand into your hair. Drags you up into a half-crouch. The toy shifts and you squeeze your thighs together tightly to keep it inside, shaking with every ripple from within.

 

The General's cock is presented to you and you waste no time sucking it into your mouth. Swallowing around it greedily as both his hands bury themselves into your hair to make you bob your head. 

 

You grip his hips to control the depth. Letting him slam into you to the edge of your throat but not enough for you to gag. He pushes you hard, bringing you down lower with each of his thrusts. The object inside you moves again and you moan, circling your hips against it.

 

The General curses, yanking your hair back and pulling out most of the way. Recognizing what this means, you let go of his hips to stroke his shaft, feeling it twitch under your fingers as he cums into your open mouth.

 

He mutters under his breath, fucking your face as you lap your tongue over him. You're more than willing to keep working him for as long as he pleases, but eventually he lets go and softly pulls away. 

 

One of his hands holds onto your shoulder as he pants, trying to catch his breath.

 

“Officer...” he huffs, and for once it's his turn to be at a loss for words. You smile at him as he strokes your face, feeling thoroughly pleased with yourself. 

 

He straightens and lets you gently tuck him back into his pants and zip them up. He turns and stiffly walks back to his desk without finishing whatever he was going to say.

 

The toy is still lodged in you, having gone largely forgotten over these last few minutes. With his back turned, you take the opportunity to reach between your legs to remove it. Your muscles grip on to it almost stubbornly, making you feel disappointingly empty when it's pulled out.

 

Not knowing what to do with it, you set it on the couch next to you. Blushing at the wide wet spot that will now permanently stain the delicate suede upholstery.

 

A clicking sound and you look over to the General. He's sitting at his desk and lighting a cigarette. It's such a cliché that you laugh under your breath.

 

He glances at you, pupils still dilated by his recent orgasm. “Would you like one?” he offers.

 

You shake you head. “No thank you, Sir. I don't smoke.

 

He shrugs. “Pity.” 

 

Silence fills the room as he takes a long drag. Now that you've come down, you're starting to feel awkward and exposed once more. Without asking for permission, you stand up and pick your clothing off the floor. He watches quietly as you get dressed, starting with your panties.

 

Your shirt is the last piece, and when you finish the top button he clears his throat.

 

“You will clear your schedule for the night after tomorrow,” he tells you.

 

“Sir?”

 

“It will take time for me to find a room and have it set up properly.”

 

You try to straighten your hair, but without a mirror you have no idea whether it's a mess or not.

 

“Properly?” you ask.

 

“Cameras. Lighting. That sort of thing.” He waves his hand with the cigarette dismissively, sending curls of smoke shifting through the air.

 

“Oh. Right.” 

 

Going all out, huh? You shouldn't be surprised. The General isn't known for doing _anything_ half-assed.

 

You desperately need to take a shower. And then go back to work. You've been in his office for so long that your coworkers probably think you've been shot and dumped in the garbage disposal by now.

 

“Can I leave, Sir?' you ask.

 

He looks you over slowly. “Yes. You are excused, Officer. I will contact you discretely with the details later.”

 

Back to business as usual between you two until then. You nod and quickly leave, sighing deeply in relief as the door slides shut behind you.


	2. So Perfectly Reasonable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 2 and 3 were written at the same time and ideally should be read together. But they're also both over 7k words each so I totally get it if you have more to do in your day than just reading hardcore smut the whole time, lol

The rest of the day you'd been a flustered mess.

 

After fleeing from the General's office you'd ran back to your quarters with your tail between your legs and cum soaking through your panties. As soon as you could, you'd stripped and tossed your clothing into the collection bin without looking at them. Just before stepping into the refresher you take a deep breath and force yourself to go to the mirror.

 

Your hair's in a messy bun and your eyes are teared up. Both of these you probably could have explained if someone had stopped you in the hall on your flight back here. The flaky little patch of dried semen at the corner of your mouth would have been harder.

 

You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can. Fight back the vivid memory of the General's groans as he pounded into your throat. How he was so swollen after finger-fucking your cunt that he only lasted a few thrusts before spilling into your mouth.

 

“ _Oh gods_ ,” you whine out loud, cupping your face between your hands and forcing in deep breaths to attempt to calm down. Try not to ask yourself for the hundredth time what the _hell_ have you just done?

 

You set the water in the shower to a shade below scalding and furiously wash yourself from head to toe. Scrubbing your pussy vigorously and ignoring the residual tingles of pleasure still locked inside your nerves.

 

*

 

Other than for your own waspish skittishness and the curious stares of your coworkers, the rest of the day goes by without event. Just like any other day you where you hadn't spread your legs and let your boss shove a silicone cock into you.

 

And you just can't fucking believe it. Everytime you think about it you can't even-

 

How the fuck could you have let this happen? You could have walked away. You could have said no.

 

But... But you hadn't wanted to say no. It had been good. Intense and nerve-wracking, but good. You'd given each other an orgasm. Hooked up like two normal, newly single, consenting adults. You hadn't done _anything_ wrong.

 

So why does it feel like you had?

 

Mercifully, you hear nothing from him all day. No summons or deadline. He said he would be discrete when he contacted you. Guess telling you at work when and where he will fuck younext doesn't count.

 

*

 

You dream about him that night.

 

You hadn't wanted to dream about anything. You'd gone to bed half drunk, mind still torn between anticipation, self-recrimination, and a growing sense of being in over your head.

 

That evening had been spent staying up late, drinking alone and watching dumb TV shows. Only half paying attention as you scan phrases like “how to fuck like a porn star” or “how porn is actually made” on your datapad.

 

When sleep finally comes, your dream plays out like a porno. Of course it does. _Porn porn porn_ on your mind all day long. That, coupled with the rising stress of expectation, naturally made you a little horny. _Oops._

 

In your dream you're being roughly shoved down onto a bed. You have only a vague idea of how you got there, but the memory is clouded and irrelevant. Gloved hands stop you when you try to leave. You can feel his breath on your neck. The same breath that had fanned across your pussy earlier. It feels so familiar to you now.

 

You're pressed down and your legs are spread as your ass gets slapped when you try to wriggle away. He bends one of your legs at the knee and pulls it up. Just enough to get access.

 

Of course he stays fully clothed. Just like he was before. You'd like to see him naked too, but it's not up to you.

 

Gloved fingers cup your pussy from behind and you're opened wider. He rubs you while he strokes your hair with his other hand. It's almost tender and it makes you even wetter. _This_ is what you'd been missing last time.

 

You lift your hips up, encouraging him. He breaches you with his fingers again, stretching your entrance and it feels every bit as good as you'd remembered.

 

“Are you ready?” he asks.

 

Gods, you're _so_ ready. A quick nod and he huffs. Pulls you up onto your elbows while pulling your ass into the air.

 

It's a very submissive position that he has you in and you can feel his thumbs spread your pussy lips open for him. You hear him shift, adjusting his clothing.

 

You can't take the suspense. Look between your spread thighs and watch as he frees himself. The sight of his swollen cock makes you clench. You'd wanted to be filled by that from the first moment you had it in your mouth.

 

Then, with absolutely flawless timing, your alarm goes off.

 

You bolt upright, heart already racing from your dreams of impending penetration.

 

_Oh godamnit..._

 

Your fingers are slick as you fumble with your alarm. You'd been touching yourself in your sleep and you're still aching, soaking the sheets tangled around your legs.

 

Tingles spark through your pussy. You don't even think about it. You push your fingers inside yourself and try not think think how woefully inadequate they feel.

 

But you know that you can get yourself off quite quickly like this. Point your toes and thrust your hips into the air a tiny bit. Keep the tension in your lower body while your fingers never leaving your clit or your cunt. It's not the most satisfying way to climax, but you need to get to work soon and this way takes you over the edge every time.

 

 _Nnnnhhnn..._ You picture him like he was in your dream. Hard and moving himself between your legs.

 

Your upper back arches. Almost. Almost... Randomly wonder how much longer he'll make you wait until this is real.

 

When you climax you throw your head back against your pillow as your body stretches taut.

 

Even as you ride out your orgasm, you can't help but think how much better it could be. Imagining longer, nimble fingers at play. How much more satisfying it would be with something thicker lodged inside you. Giving your flexing muscles something to spasm against.

 

Instead, you come down quickly. A short and sharp climax. You yank your fingers out of yourself with a groan, feeling more frustrated than gratified.

 

*

 

This day goes better. Your early AM solo session having flooded your body with endorphins and calmed your anxiousness. You're still strung up with anticipation, though. The General's either going to contact you today, in one way or another, or you'll assume he's called it off.

 

The waiting is the worst part.

 

Still, you walk into your office block with a pretty flush to your cheeks. Riding the high from your erotic dream and subsequent self-tiddling.

 

You sit down at your desk and start clicking away through reports and overdue projects. Several minutes go by before it hits you: no more porn. Your Ex hadn't taped his daily Cooch Caption to your screen or changed the background on your computer. Both non-events were completely unprecedented. He literally hadn't missed a _single_ day since you'd broken up.

 

Curious, you check your inbox. Nothing from the General, though you hadn't expected yoursummons to arrive in that way. There is, however, a message from your Ex. It's time-stamped late last night.

 

' _I'm sorry_ '.

 

Just those two words. Nothing more.

 

Instead of gloating or ripping into him for being such an asshole, you eventually choose to reply with the more mature and dignified “what changed?”.

 

He never gives you an answer.

 

*

 

When you get back to your quarters that evening, you're greeted by a single long-stemmed rose on top of the end table by your bed. It's resting flat on top of a picture... a picture of you.

 

It's the photo from earlier, the one you had tried to hide from him at your desk. The rose is placed directly over your vulva. The shade of the petals exactly matching the shade of your... well, of your _lips_.

 

You stare at it, speechless. Not that there's anyone around to hear you, but... The man's a lunatic. A lunatic with an apparently extreme attention for details.

 

In a weird way you're almost flattered by the bizarre effort and appreciation he's showing for a part of your body. Your pussy is just a pussy, as far as you're concerned. But it's proven to be a source of vast fascination for both your Ex and now your boss.

 

Next to the flower is a little piece of paper. On one side of it is written “11PM” and a number. You're pretty sure it's for one of the luxury guest suites on board. It's probably the closest equivalent to an expensive hotel room that the ship has to offer.

 

You turn the paper over. The General's flawless penmanship greets you.

 

“Tomorrow night. Touch yourself before you arrive but don't climax, I want you ready for me. And don't you dare be late.”

 

You blush. Cover your face with your hand and shake your head. And then cringe. Your heart fluttering with as much nervous anticipation as a teenage girl about to loose her virginity.

 

Unsurprisingly, you get very little sleep that night.

 

*

 

And get very little work done the next day.

*

 

It's time.

 

It's time and you've downed close to half a bottle of wine before going to the room. Instead of cushioning your nerves, it had simply irritated your stomach and threatened to give you some decidedly non-sexy hiccups.

 

Now you're sitting on the bed in the back room of the suite. Working your way through the third glass of some sweet liqueur that he keeps pouring for you and trying to feel pragmatic.

 

The General is sitting next to you, close enough that his knee touches yours. He's systematically going over the datapad in his hands, but you're hardly listening to what he's saying. Instead, so overwhelmed by both his proximity, the whiskey on _his_ breath, and the fact that he's taken notes.

 

 _Notes_.

 

He actually, seriously, literally has written a sex script. It details the sequence of positions you will be taking and which of the numerous cameras located throughout the room you will need to be facing at each time.

 

“Do you understand, Officer?” he turns his head to you and the sour sweetness of top shelf alcohol tickles your face.

 

You blink. Can't think. Nod dumbly and finish your drink.

 

“Do you have any questions?”

 

Oh so many. So so many. But you're too stupefied to ask about anything other than the most obvious.

 

“How did you so all this? Sir?”

 

The room is setup... insanely. At least six cameras covering all angles, strategic diffused lighting, and a large monitor over the bed. The screen is connected to each of the camera feeds, offering a brilliantly candid splitscreen view of the bed and it's two soon-to-be interlocked costars.

 

“I had one of the crew prepare it, of course. One of our radar technicians. I must say he did an incredible job.”

 

The General takes another sip of his beverage. There's a faint but ruddy flush to his pale skin. It's adorably centered mostly on his ears, but you don't dare mention that detail. It's also hinting that this was hardly his first drink of the night. Still, he's as composed and detached at ever. Not that you would have expected any less.

 

“Yeah, it's _something_. And this crewmember... he's trustworthy, right?”

 

You're not sure if you like the idea of anyone else being involved in this debacle. Even if they were just wiring up the room.

 

The General scoffs into his drink. Smirks at the amber liquid before finishing it bottoms-up. You can't help but feel like you're being left out of some sort of inside joke.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Oh. Well okay, then.

 

You open your mouth to say something. Then close it. There's something else you wanted to ask him about, but he places a hand on your upper thigh and you fall silent.

 

He watches as your gaze flickers between his hand and his face. You're not turned on right now. You definitely were earlier, though. Hopefully you can get back to that mindset quickly.

 

The hand moves. Gliding along the smooth fabric of your pants. You wish you'd dressed sexier for this, but it was the fear of getting caught that kept you in plain outerclothes.

 

You catch his hand in yours. Move it up to the inside of your leg and glide it up so that he's almost touching over your pussy. Your heart starts beating faster but you don't want to look up at him.

 

“You're going to have to get used to that, Officer,” he chuckles at your shyness. “You know that, right?”

 

His hand caresses your inner thigh in short strokes. The movement is uncharacteristically imprecise and you wonder how much he's had to drink. It makes you doubt that this is such a good idea right now.

 

“Can I have another, Sir?” you ask instead.

 

His eyebrows raise. You lift your empty glass and he nods. You watch him stand up, go to the table by the bed and pour a drink for each of you.

 

“Are you wearing anything under your blouse?” he asks.

 

“Hm? Oh. My underwear. And a camisole over my bra.”

 

He hands you a tumbler. It's filled with the same whiskey he's drinking. You'd have preferred something sweeter, but you accept this with a polite smile.

 

“Thank you, Sir.”

 

You move to raise it to your lips and he stops your hand. Holds his glass next to yours.

 

“To... our next few hours together.”

 

You pause, then nod and toast with him. “Cheers.”

 

To surviving the next few hours? No. That's too negative. To riding your boss like you paid for it?

 

Okay, much better.

 

You swallow half the firey liquid and gasp. The General watches, amused by your reaction. Then finishes his off in one go and sets both your glasses aside.

 

“Take of your pants and shirt and kneel on the center of the bed.”

 

Oh...so you're just going to dive in a get started? Okay...

 

He watches as you unbutton your blouse. He had removed his coat earlier and now all he does is unfasten his cufflinks.

 

Finally the alcohol is starting to take effect. You can feel it warming your blood and the nervousness that had gripped you since you'd first come here starts to loosen.

 

It's not exactly a sexy striptease that you're performing, but you try to make it a little coy. Shimmy the fabric off your shoulders. Let it slide down into a pool behind you. The General cocks his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

You unbutton your pants and wriggle them down your hips. Purposefully keeping your butt skimming the surface of the bed so that your panties get caught along with them.

 

When you're about to expose yourself you reach inside and catch the band. Pull it back up with a loud snap against you skin. Look up at the General with an innocent pout. He shakes his head at your silliness, a hint of a smile on his lips. His fingers spins in the air in a “hurry up and get on with it” sort of circle.

 

You slide your pants down your legs. Making a point to caress your skin as you lean deeply over. Giving him an ample view of your cleavage.

 

“Flip your hair over your shoulder and look at me.”

 

He opens the drawer on the bedside table and pulls something out. It takes you a moment to realize it's a smaller handheld camera. No doubt meant for the ubiquitous closeup shots, but you don't mind. And it should give your video a sort of voyeuristic “cam girl” kind of charm.

 

You smile up at him, running your hands through your hair. Then you throw it behind your head and lean over again. This time giving him and his camera a clear and unobstructed view as you pull your pants over your feet.

 

“Crawl over to the center of the bed and lay down.”

 

He's being very bossy tonight. You suspect some of that is the result of the alcohol and some of it is him being a prick.

 

Nevertheless, you spin on the bed. Reach over to the table and finish off the rest of your drink that was sitting there. Then you shift onto your hands and knees and crawl away from him, sticking your ass up as you go. When you get to the middle of the bed you look over your shoulder. Savor the dark scowl on his face.

 

You lay on your back, keeping your legs bent at the knees. The alcohol is singing in your body and you close your eyes for a second. Enjoying the feel of the moment.

 

“Officer.”

 

“Yes, Sir?”

 

“Are you trying to provoke me?”

 

You look up to one of the cameras on the ceiling. You can see yourself broadcast on the screen from every angle.

 

“Of course, Sir.”

 

He steps closer, right to the edge of the bed.

 

“Go on, then. Put on a show for me.”

 

His eyes drag over you with a look of such intention that you can practically feel it on your skin. It's a lot to take in, but he's right. The whole setup of this is jarring and you need to warm yourself into it.

 

So you shift deeper against the bed sheets and wish that the lighting was dimmer.

 

This first step was the hardest part. Touching yourself. Exposing yourself. Taking your clothes off and trying to be sexy. And doing it all with the sole intention of getting your boss hard enough to penetrate you.

 

It wasn't easy. Porn made it look easy, but it really _really_ wasn't.

 

But... _but_ -

 

You want this. You want to get fucked tonight. You've been wanting it for days.

 

So you give his camera one last long, lingering _'_ _screw_ _me senseless you bad boy'_ leer and then close your eyes. Forcing yourself to get into the thrill of the moment.

 

You run your hands up and down the sides of your ribs. Cradling and caressing your torso. It feels so corny and forced. Maybe you just need to show more skin?

 

Inhale. Exhale deeply in a soft, open-mouthed pant. Your hands slide down, skimming along your camisole before catching the lower edge of it. You raise it up slightly, just a few inches, and expose a line of skin above your navel.

 

The bed shifts, dipping down. You pause in your self-caress. Open your eyes a fraction and see your boss kneel above you. He holds the camera in one hand and keeps the other firmly in the pocket of his pants.

 

Is he holding his cock down? You make a pointed look at it. Wanting to believe that he finds you sexy enough that your awkward shimmying is turning him on.

 

“Keep going,” he tells you, voice as impassive as ever. “Take it off so I can see you.”

 

His words give you a flashback to your first session with him. The memory of it sends a little twirl of excitement up your spineasyou cup and cradle your breasts.

 

You pull your top up over your head. Try to forget the about camera as your fingers catch both sides of your panties again. Hold the band in place as you shimmy your hips up higher along the bed. The resulting action makes the garment edge lower and lower down your body.

 

When it reaches the lower edge of your public mound you let go and leave it there, barely covering you. Then you bring your arms up, giving the camera a smirk.

 

You stick two fingers in your mouth. Hook them against your lower teeth and drag your jaw open. Visualize a scene from a porno where the man was fucking a woman from behind while doing just that. Hopefully your explicit thoughts carry through your expression.

 

“Suck them and show them to me.”

 

Well, at least he certainly doesn't look bored anymore. Not even remotely as you wrap your lips around your fingers. Hollowing your cheeks and staring up at _him_ – not his camera – as you pull them out with a soft 'pop'.

 

He snatches your wrist as you bring it up for his inspection. It's a little rough how he squeezes tighter than necessary or yanks your arm until your shoulder hurts.

 

“Did you touch yourself, Officer? Since you were in my office before?”

 

Your cheeks color with warmth at the question. He probably wants... yeah, okay. Dirty talk. You got this.

 

“Yes, Sir. I did.”

 

“When?”

 

“Yesterday morning. I'd had a dream about you, and when I woke up I just couldn't help myself.”

 

His eyebrows raise at that. “Really?”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“And what did you dream about, Officer?” He holds your hand firmly in his.

 

“This, Sir.” You look at the mounted cameras on the walls. “You fucking me tonight.”

 

He nods slowly, face far too serious for the situation. “Dreams do come true, then?”

 

You laugh. Genuinely. A short little giggle. So the man _does_ have a sense of humor after all...

 

“Not quite, Sir. By this point in my dream you were already inside me.”

 

He gives you a smirk so filthy your whole body flushes.

 

“Did you penetrate yourself?”

 

“...yes, Sir. I did.”

 

“With what?”

 

“Just my fingers, Sir.”

 

He cocks his head and shifts his grip on your hand to pinch and squeeze each digit. Catches your middle and index finger which are still slightly wet from your mouth.

 

“Are these the ones you used?”

 

You nod.

 

“On this hand?”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

He contemplates them, using his own to curl and uncurl them. You're not sure how much of this is being caught on camera. But then he leans over and kisses them, once on each of pads of your fingertips, and you're heart starts beating too fast for you to care.

 

“You will do that again, Officer,” he says as he pulls back. Lets go of your hand and lets it drop next to you. “After you've taken me into your mouth, you will do that again, understood?”

 

“Yes, Sir. Whatever you want.”

 

 _That_ apparently was the right thing to say. He rewards you with a slight smile that makes a twitch of longing spark in your pussy.

 

Then he gets off the bed and stands next to it, towering above you. You look up at him, waiting for your next instruction.

 

“Take off your bra.”

 

You nod. Slip off one strap. Toy with the other as you innocently pout at him.

 

“Up,” he orders. You raise your arm and he reaches down, slipping the other shoulder strap over and off. He pulls the bra away along with it, exposing your chest.

 

The next look he gives you is appraising. You accept it patiently. _Th_ _at_ was the easy part, but it's working. His pants are tented out in the front. This is all going pretty well.

 

“Shall I keep going, Sir?”

 

You bend your legs and spread you them a little, bringing the crotch of your panties into view. Instead of taking the prompt like you'd expected, he shakes his head.

 

“No. Keep the rest of your clothes on and come up to your knees. It's time we get started.”

 

You nod, moving to kneel in front of him. He sets the camera down on the end table and grips your hips. Adjusting your positioning while watching the effect on the screen. Then he gathers up all your hair and sweeps it back you, tucking it behind your ears.

 

When he's satisfied with the scene's arrangement, he straightens up again.

 

“Now remember, I want to see _you._ ”

 

He catches your chin in his hand and pulls your face up so you have to look at him. “Try not to block the cameras with your body and look at me when I'm in your mouth.”

 

You nod, feeling flutters of nervousness sweep over you. “Yes, Sir. I enjoyed doing this last time.”

 

“Good girl. I want you to enjoy this.”

 

“Do I have to keep my eyes open the whole time?”

 

He reaches out and pets your head. Then huffs and corrects your hair again from where he had displaced it.

 

“As much as possible. You won't be able to open your eyes when I'm deep, but when you can I want you to be looking at me or the camera. Use eye contact and alternate between us.”

 

“Um... yes Sir.”

 

 _Camera. Cock. Camera. Cock._ Okay, got it.

 

You smile up at him. The General returns at least the heat of your expression, if not your warmth. You press your cheek to the front of his pants, feeling how his semi-erect cock twitches even through the thick fabric.

 

A deep breath. “Are you ready, Sir?” you finally ask.

 

“Very much so, Officer.”

 

He reaches over and picks up the camera again.

 

You look up at the screen and you can see yourself there, kneeling topless in front of your boss. The bulge of his erection clearly visible even on the smaller views.

 

And damned if you don't think you look _hot_ right now. This is going to be one sexy as hell movie. So you'd better do it justice.

 

Repeating your move from last time, the one you were secretly rather proud of, you catch his zipper with your teeth. Drag it down as you cling to his belt to steady yourself. One of his hands cards through your hair, sweeping it to the side from where it had slipped and giving him a clear view.

 

His cock juts out, clipping you on the chin and surprising you.

 

“No underwear, Sir?” you ask, hesitating for just a heartbeat before reaching out and taking him into hand.

 

“Not this time, Officer.”

 

He opens his belt and the top button. Giving more room and easier access for your performance.

 

“How _kinky_...” you murmur, adjusting his open pants and wriggling on your knees, moving your head into place.

 

“Get to work.”

 

His voice is gruff but his cock is twitching in your grip. You quite like the combination. That mix of his rough and domineering attitude and the blatant proof of his interest in your hands.

 

You smile as you stroke him and watch him grow just for you. You can already feel a few prickles and warmth in your pussy as the alcohol and rising lust take hold.

 

Right now you're just teasing. Warming both of you up. You're going to get down to business pretty soon, but first and foremost you're here to put on a show.

 

So you hold his cock next to your face, stroking your hand in slow movements along the bottom while nuzzling the rest with your cheek. You glance at the screen for a moment, checking that you're not blocking any of the cameras with your head positioning.

 

The General makes an angry noise in his throat, reminding you to look up at _him_.

 

A fluttering of your eyelashes at the camera he's holding. Maintaining the line of sight as you give a wet lick to his tip then blow on it. Holding it between your hands and rolling them together slowly.

 

The hand that was petting you sinks into your hair. Dragging you closer. It pulls hard and you grunt, then tell yourself to enjoy the sting. You open your mouth, flicking the tip of your tongue out to tap against the spongy head.

 

He's hard enough now that you can start your task in earnest. The end is red and swollen and the hand in your hair loosens so you can lean forward to kiss him.

 

It's a sweet and affectionate salute, then you move down, his hand following your movements but not controlling them. You hold him firmly and lick from root to end.

 

“ _Fuck_...” he mutters, surprising you.

 

His expression is very focused and you wonder if he's as horny for this as you are, or it's all just part of his show.

 

You move your free hand up his length, licking your thumb then teasing that little ridge at the bottom where the head meets the shaft. The frenulum. That's the word for it. You write the letters of it out on him with your finger.

 

Opening up again, your tongue laves over his slit. Making it sloppier and more open-mouthed than you normally would so it looks extra juicy on camera.

 

“Mhhmmmm...” you moan, letting it vibrate against him. Showing off to the cameras how fun this is.

 

The General huffs. Loosens his tight grip in your hair to massage your scalp as you roll your tongue in a circle around him. Then he pulls you forward, pushing himself halfway into your mouth. You can feel more than taste the first few dribbles of his precum leak into you, and you move one of your hands to cup and cradle his balls. Your other hand keeps pumping as you hollow your cheeks, letting him set the pace that he likes.

 

The main act of the blowjob commences like that. With him pumping deeper and deeper into your mouth while controlling each bob of your head. You remember his instructions. Moan and look up at him through your lashes as he reaches the back of your throat.

 

He swells again from the vibrations and you grip his base with one hand. The other holding onto his thigh as he increases the pace. He keeps trying to make you take him deeper, but you hold him back from going too far.

 

Then you pull away so you can moan again. Closing your eyes and picturing how this must look. He clicks his tongue. You look up and he gestures to the camera in his free hand.

 

Obligingly, you stare into it. Tilting your head to the side so it can get a good view of the cock pushing in and out from between your lips.

 

You work him in a stroking rhythm that you'd perfected on your Ex. Go deep for two pulses, trying to squeeze him with your tongue and cheeks. Then bob up to the end for four pulses. The tip is the most sensitive part, so you play there the longest.

 

Then you apply firmer suction to the tip as you pull up. It makes that wet sound as it leaves your mouth. You pump him a few times with your hand, easing out some of the precum that you'd been tasting. Letting it dribble onto your tongue before you pull away.

 

“Don't you dare let it spill,” the General growls, holding himself when he lets your head go.

 

You watch with an exuberant fascination as he strokes himself. Observing his technique and how rough he is.

 

Okay, cribnotes noted. You were going too soft on him.

 

You pick up the bottle of lube on the bed next to you. Squeeze out a small dollop and rub it between your palms to warm it.

 

“Where do you want to cum, Sir?” You ask the question you hadn't gotten around to before. “On my face? On my tits? In my mouth?”

 

It's more crass than you'd normally speak, but _ohfuckit_ , you're in a porno. Before you can turn back to him to give him your sultry “fuck me” eyes, the hand in your hair returns. Digging into your scalp and pulling you down onto your hands and knees.

 

“Wherever the hell I want to, Officer. Now open your mouth and shut up.”

 

His words and sudden shift in tone shock you. For a second you freeze, staring down at how the lube on your palms is smearing on the sheets.

 

Then he drags you forward again, pulling you up and presenting his cock to you again. Maybe you'd done something to piss him off? You'd thought you were being coy and flirty, but maybe it was too assertive for a control freak like your boss.

 

Okay, so he wants you to be submissive. That's fine. You can build up a roleplaying fantasy in your head to go along with it.

 

In apology for being disobedient, you immediately open and take him into your mouth. Glide your hands up and down, using a continuous pumping motion and squeezing harder than you did before.

 

No more fucking around this time. He's so heavy and swollen in your mouth now, it can't be much longer. So you work faster, pushing yourself to take him as deep as you comfortably can.

 

Not deep enough, apparently. The General grips your head with both hands and shoves himself in hard. Pushing past your mouth and you immediately gag from the pressure on the entrance to your throat.

 

You scramble to push away, gripping his hips and shoving. He growls a curse and shoves himself in deeper, sending awful spasms running along your throat. You whine against him, feeling tears start to form as the alcohol churns in your stomach.

 

“Stop!” you try to mumble, but around the thickness lodged in you it comes out as a completely incoherent gurgle. You paw at him and he stops pushing, holding himself in place.

 

“Relax, Officer. Just hold still and it will get better.”

 

He's impossibly calm and you can't even breathe. Fighting him is useless, though. So you force yourself to hold still and take it.

 

Tears stream down your face but he was right. It gets better. After a few seconds of violent spasms your throat gives up trying to eject him.

 

Then he pulls out completely, letting go of your scalp. You drop to your side, leaning on your elbow as you pant. Shocked and a little scared.

 

“What _the fuck,_ Sir?!” you manage to choke out.

 

“Language, Officer,” he chides. He reaches down to you and you flinch, suddenly gripped by the impulse to just call the whole thing off and flee.

 

This time, however, he strokes your hair. Cupping your face and pulling it up to look at him. He tsks and reaches over to the end table by the bed. Pulls a tissue out of the box and wipes away the tears ruining your makeup in streaks.

 

You stay passive, letting him turn your head so you're better visible for the camera now sitting on the table. You'd been too busy getting your throat fucked to realize that he had put it down.

 

“Sir?” you ask, sniffling. You don't expect an explanation or an apology.

 

“Do you think you can do that again, Officer?”

 

You blink repeatedly. Then nod your head. Your throat hurts but all the sweet attention he's giving to soothe you is helping.

 

“Try it, Officer. Do that on your own and hold it for a few seconds.”

 

He holds your shoulder and gently pulls you up back to your knees.

 

You take another deep breath and center yourself. It's okay. You're okay. You can do this. This is _just_ porn. And what would porn be with a classic deepthroating scene?

 

That thought almost lightens the mood. You grip him again, impressed that his erection has stayed strong despite the intermission. Then you hold your breathy and take him into your mouth again.

 

It _is_ easier this time. At least somewhat. Now that you're controlling the movement and depth.

 

When he reaches the entrance to your throat you try to relax. The spasms are there but less miserable now. He lets you set your own pace, the hand cradling the back of your head exerting a steady but not forceful pressure.

 

You can't go as far down as he had made you do last time. It feels like you have the whole thing in your throat, but logically you must only be taking a few inches.

 

The General groans. Not the same angry sound he made earlier. This time it's a lower, guttural noise and you immediately feel a response in your pussy.

 

Motivated but running out of air, you push yourself a little deeper onto him. You even try to get your tongue involved, though it mostly just presses up against him clumsily.

 

Sensing your struggle, the General pulls himself out. The motion sending oddly grasping flutters along your throat until he's free.

 

You let go of him and rest your hands on your knees. Staring down at the floor as he pets you again and tucks a few loose strands of hair back behind your ears.

 

“Better?” he asks.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Good. If you keep practicing you should be able to learn very quickly.”

 

You nod, wanting to say something but needing to take a moment first.

 

“Can we... not do that anymore? Please, Sir?” You look up at him, hoping he won't be angry.

 

Instead his expression is completely neutral. Whatever thoughts he's having hidden behind his flawless mask of indifference.

 

“Very well,” he answers after considering your request. “You can go back to what you were doing before, Officer.”

 

“Thank you, Sir,” you say, relieved.

 

This time, you focus on the mission literally at hand. Going back to your pulses and bobs that he seemed to enjoy the most. You can tell he's getting close. He'd been close for a while, actually, and you have to admire his ability to control himself. It must be uncomfortable to be so swollen for such a long time.

 

Despite him being a prick, you want to help him out with that. He covers your hand with his own and squeezes, adjusting the friction of your pumps. It frees up your efforts so you can devote your full attention to your mouth.

 

His tip twitches against your tongue. It makes you think he's about to cum, but when he doesn't you realize that he's _that turned on_. Your movements ease a little. Tongue nudging the underside as you alternate swallowing the whole head with pressing your lips to just the tip and sucking.

 

“ _Kriff...”_ his voice is strained and it pleases you to no end that he can't even complete the sentence.

 

A little more. That's all it will take. Just a little more.

 

His whole cock jumps and you reach down with your free hand, cupping his balls in your palm and _oh-so-gently_ giving them a squeeze. Literally trying to push his orgasm out of him.

 

It works. He growls out an expletive and fists your hair. Pulling your head off him while vigorously working his hand over yours as you pump him together.

 

You tilt your head up and stare with half-lidded eyes at the camera on the ceiling. Not wanting to actually watch his cum shoot out of him, but also not wanting to miss a chance to amp up the sexuality of the moment even more.

 

Of course, as he coats your neck and bare breasts with his semen, it's hard to imagine the scene being any more erotic. You let him move your hand however he wants. Instead focusing on how his cock feels in your palm as he ejaculates.

 

Just to be a little nasty, you count the spurts. Two bigger ones at first and they hit your skin hard enough to splash back, then four smaller that are timed with his breathy grunts.

 

After that you wriggle your hand out from under his and take over as he finishes. His cock is still hard but not as rigid as before.

 

You wrap your lips around him again, tasting the mild saltiness of his cum. It's not your favorite flavor, but you're so into the moment right now that you swallow it without hesitation, letting the remaining dribbles from him leak out onto your tongue.

 

When it's done, you circle him with your hand. Holding onto the base and pulsing your palm against it, knowing that there's always a little more cum trapped in the shaft. It drips out into your mouth and you keep your lips on him. Gently bobbing your head up and down in slow motion while applying a mild suction. Hoping to keep him at least half-hard.

 

“Officer...” his voice is a little hoarse and a hand grabs your shoulder. Trying to push you away.

 

You shake your head, fluttering the tip of your tongue along him like a butterfly. Keeping up the pressure of your hand.

 

He grunts, digging his nails into your skin while holding on tight. He's figured it out, apparently. Realized that it will look better if he can keep an erection going the whole time, even if it isn't necessarily the most pleasant of feelings for him.

 

You pull away after a few more seconds. Pump his whole length twice more than flick your tongue and clean off the last drops of cum that you coax out. Lean back onto your heels and lick your lips.

 

“Good to the last drop, Sir.”

 

The glare he gives you is positively murderous. He adjusts his stance to give his cock some breathing room before reaching out, yanking your chin towards the ceiling.

 

“Open.”

 

You do so instantly. Opening your mouth and pressing your cum-covered tongue against the back of your lower teeth so he can see it.

 

“Good. Now close.”

 

You close your mouth. Leaning back and rubbing the tops of your thighs. Giving your butt a little wiggle like a dog wagging its tail.

 

The General runs a hand through his hair, collecting himself.

 

“Do you like your necklace?”

 

You look down at your chest. Watching how his cum dribbles along the curves of your body in silken ribbons. A few strands are dripping off your nipples and the rest is a trail running along your stomach and soaking the top band of your panties.

 

A really sexy response is required right now, isn't it?

 

“It's beautiful, Sir,” you purr, catching a drop off your right nipple and touching it to your tongue. “I wish I could wear this all the time.”

 

He huffs. He always seems to huff when you please him. You'll have to remember that.

 

“Take off your panties, go back to the center of the bed, and spread your legs.”

 

He's moved back to the end table and is pouring two more drinks. He finishes one then sets the other on the bed next to you. Picks up the camera from where it had dropped and checks the videofeed.

 

“Go ahead, Officer,” he orders when he's ready.

 

You hold your breath and knock the whiskey back. It burns but you're glad for the bolt of courage it brings along with its fire.

 

Then you catch the band of your underwear and pull down. Not trying to be either teasing or bashful as you strip off your last piece of clothing.

 

You leave your panties where they fall off on the floor and scoot backwards, mindful to keep your legs together as you move into position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously you two: just fuck already


	3. Ballad of a Porno Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take it a champ, Reader, take it like a champ.

Your heartbeat races as you sit there, waiting, and your stomach does a flip when your costar joins you on the bed.

 

He moves directly behind you. You can smell the fresh alcohol on his breath fan the back of your neck. His arms wrap around your torso, arranging you so you're sitting flush against him, his erection pressing into the small of your back.

 

Then he leans over, placing the camera directly in front of you. On its flipout viewscreen you can see yourself, and he adjusts the angle so it's pointing straight at you.

 

You can't quite fight the shiver that goes up and down your body as you realize what he's doing. Then he catches your wrists in his hands and moves your arms back. Rubbing them up and down a few times to calm you. You hear him hum before he brings your hands down to your sides so they can support your weight when he leans you back on his chest.

 

“Spread you legs, (L/N).”

 

You can't bring yourself look at the camera, but you do what he asks. Moving your knees apart.

 

“More,” he orders. “All the way.”

 

He helps by grasping your inner thighs and pulling until your legs as wide apart as is comfortable for you. Then he slides his hands up higher, thumbs rubbing the crease between your thighs and pussy.

 

“You're so beautiful, (L/N),” he praises. “Did you get that just for me?”

 

You look up to the ceiling as if praying to a higher power. Except no god has a place here right now so you'd better answer him. Yes, you'd gotten a full wax yesterday. You normally didn't go to _that_ much effort with grooming, but since you were going to be in a porno and all...

 

“Yes, Sir,” you make yourself speak. “Do you like it?”

 

He rests his chin on your shoulder and you know he's looking at the screen on the camera. Watching as he moves his hands and pulls your puffy outer labia apart.

 

“It was perfect before and it's perfect now. Does it make you more sensitive?”

 

To emphasize his question he strokes along your edges and you jolt. Nod quickly. Yep. It sure does.

 

“Yes, Sir. Much more so.”

 

He hums, cupping your whole sex in his palm and ticking you with a wiggle of his fingers. It makes you shiver again and you look down. See yourself. Completely unsurprised by how much of your slickness is shining on his hand.

 

Then he moves back to your thigh and makes you lean backward further, bringing your crotch into better view. You watch him as he watches you, and there's something so ridiculously intense about the moment of shared eye contact.

 

“It's been two long days without this, (L/N). I so badly missed waking up to this every morning.”

 

He pulls his head away from next to yours. Instead craning it over your shoulder as he goes back to stroking the far boundaries of your pussy.

 

“You mean the pictures?”

 

He nibbles your shoulder, putting a bit of a bite to it, and you look down again. Watching as he places his hand just above your clit and pulls up, raising its hood.

 

“Touch yourself, Officer. Show me what I missed out on when I wasn't with you.”

 

You press yourself back against him, enjoying the one-sided cuddle. He tries to push you off but relents when your hand immediately dives for your pussy. Stroking up and down your labia before zeroing in on your clit with a well-practiced focus.

 

The sensation is greatly amplified by the way the General is holding back your skin. You softly moan, biting your lower lip. His other hand reaches over and brings the camera even closer to you. You finally look at it and your swollen and deeply flushed pussy greets you right back.

 

“It's perfect, Officer” he praises against your ear, “absolutely perfect. Nothing could get me hard faster than seeing this again.”

 

You shake your head, closing your eyes to both the view and his words. Seriously, it's _just_ a pussy. Why all the big deal over it?

 

“Do it like you did before,” he orders.

 

Your fingers leave you clit and his hand takes their place. Rubbing you in a figure-eight shape as you push your index and middle inside yourself. Pumping vigorously and you arch your back, letting your head roll back. It's not exactly how you normally touch yourself, but having him watch makes it infinitely hotter.

 

“Is that how you do it?” he asks.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“How long does it usually take?”

 

You hit a particularly good spot and your whole body shudders. You can feel his chin rolling against your shoulder as he moves to get a better look at what exactly you're doing.

 

“Not long,” you tell him. “Just a few minutes. I usually have... to go to work. So I hurry.”

 

“Such a shame, having to rush like that.” His breath washes over you again. Warm and rich with expensive booze. “Let me have a taste, (L/N).”

 

You make a scooping motion inside yourself, gathering up as much of your juices as you can before pulling your fingers out. His free hand cradles yours and brings them to his mouth. Meticulously sucking them clean.

 

When he's done he pulls away and looks at you, leaving his next question unspoken.

 

“Yes, Sir. Please.” You spread your legs even wider, inviting him inside.

 

His hand slides slowly across your hypersensitive, flushed skin and your breath catches again when he starts pushing between your inner labia. The awkwardness of the angle of his hand doesn't seem to slow him down in the least.

 

You flinch when he pushes two fingers inside you. Not from pain but from the sudden jolt of pleasure that hits you. It didn't feel anywhere near that good when you were doing the exact same thing moments ago.

 

“More, Sir,” you pant, grinding down on his hand.

 

He _tsks_ again, immediately finding your G-spot and rubbing it leisurely. Your hips work in a circle, encouraging him to find all the right areas.

 

He's being more experimental than before, trying different angles and depths and watching your reactions. A very lovely orgasm starts to build within you, starting at your G-spot and creeping deeper. Making you long for him to be inside you.

 

“You're much more relaxed today,” he comments against your ear, pushing a third finger inside you.

 

“I... It's...” you're having a hard time talking through this. “It's the alcohol, Sir. It's... helping.”

 

“Oh? Is that all?”

 

He shoves his fingers in harder, stretching your entrance to the point that it stings a little.

 

You mean to apologize. At least shake your head and tell him you didn't mean it like that. But, despite the small pain, it still feels so damned good that you nod.

 

He makes an offended noise and pushes a fourth finger inside. Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle away as he starts breaching you with most of his hand, unable to tear yourself away from the image you're presenting on the screen.

 

“Sir, _please_...” you whine softly, not wanting to be difficult.

 

“Too much, Officer?”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

You close your eyes, willing yourself not to fight him. After proving his point for another few seconds, he eases his fingers out of you.

 

“When we fuck, Officer, I want to cum inside you,” he tells you, adjusting your hair again with his free hand. “Is that alright?”

 

He bites your shoulder and circles your highly confused entrance with his thumb. Soothing it and making it twitch. You start to relax again, any residual discomfort in your cunt quickly being replaced by that hungry ache.

 

“You already did, Sir,” you say breathlessly. Referring to when he finished in your mouth in his office.

 

“So that's a yes, then?”

 

Two digits push back inside, sliding in effortlessly this time. You shudder as a third joins them. Feeling so comfortably full and yet so empty at the same time.

 

“Yes sir, I'd like that.”

 

He lets you push down on him, encouraging him to go deeper. Resumes stroking within you, starting with your G-spot and slowly working deeper along your top wall.

 

“Say it out loud, (L/N).”

 

His voice sounds so decadent right next to your ear. You shift, giving him room and letting him wrap his free arm around you to support your waist as you arch your back.

 

“Please cum inside me, Sir. I want to feel it in me.”

 

He flicks his thumbnail on your clit hard. Sending a shock of pleasurable pain that makes his fingering all the more delicious.

 

“ _Gods (L/N)_ , you're like walking viagra and you don't even know it.”

 

His praise draws your attention to the now rock-hard cock still pressed against your back. You'd been grinding on it for the last few minutes without realizing.

 

“Please fuck me, Sir,” you plead, hoping that the microphones on the cameras are catching all this. This is some premium, grade-A dirty talk you've both been doing.

 

“Soon, Officer,” he promises, shoving your head away when your affectionate nuzzling becomes too much for him to tolerate.

 

“I'm ready now, Sir,” you protest, wriggling against his erection. Unable to tell if the moisture on your skin is his new precum or your own sweat.

 

Then you yelp when he digs his fingers into your inside wall, causing a blunt pain.

 

“Officer...” he warns, and you immediately surrender. Apologizing and going still.

 

He clears his throat and eases up. “You're not very obedient, are you (L/N)?”

 

His fingers don't move. You so desperately want them to go back to moving inside you.

 

“Whatever you want, Sir,” you beg. “Anything you want.”

 

Once again, that's the right thing to say. He starts pumping into you, pushing all three fingers in as deep as they can go. His palm bumping against your clit and making you sigh.

 

Then he presses hard into you, pushing his fingers in even further. When he goes too deep you feel a short inner cramp. You press your lips together and look back at him.

 

“You will tell me when this feels good and you will tell me when it hurts.”

 

He looks at you to make sure you heard him. You murmur an agreement, relieved that he's letting you stop this whenever you want to. Probably.

 

“Good girl.”

 

His thumb starts strumming your clit. It makes you buck, so overly sensitive that you feel yourself building up quickly. That sense of need returning, making you desperate for his cock to change places with his hand.

 

“Shhh...” he whispers and you realize you'd been pleading softly under each breath. _How embarrassing_. You were whining to get fucked by your boss and hadn't even realized you'd been doing it.

 

“How long has it been since you've last had someone do this to you?” he asks, voice muffled by your hair.

 

Your whole cunt is starting to quiver. Grabbing and squeezing his fingers in a pre-orgasmic flutter.

 

“Never, Sir,” you gasp.

 

“Never? And just what exactly were you and your _'Ex'_ doing instead?”

 

His fingers ease up, letting your pussy calm down enough for you to be able to answer him.

 

“We liked to _fuck_ , Sir. That was the...” you swallow, trying to catch your breath. “That was the main point.”

 

“Well you were missing out on a lot then, weren't you?”

 

“ _Yessir...”_

 

“Alright Officer,” he says, pulling his hand out of you and your cunt immediately flexes, searching for more. “Sit up.”

 

You blink a few times, not registering his order immediately due to a lack of bloodflow to your head. Then you push up onto your knees, leaning over the camera on the bed.

 

Just like in your dream you look down between your legs. This time watching him coat himself with your own slickness.

 

Then he grabs your hips, holding firmly, and pushes into you.

 

For a second you can't breathe. Then you let out a low mewl as you feel him sink in all the way. It stretches in the loveliest of ways, and the unique feeling of your inner walls being parted like this is enough to make you cry out.

 

“Sir...”

 

He digs his nails into your skin as he pulls out and all you can think of is the feeling of your muscles gripping him. Trying to keep him inside and you roll your hips up to meet his next thrust.

 

After the third thrust he reaches out and grabs one of your shoulders. Pushing your upper body flat against the sheets. It brings your ass up higher, giving him deeper access.

 

You cry out again when his next thrust is much harder and faster. He hits the end of your passage and you immediately feel like you want to cum. So worked up that you have no problem taking all of him almost at once. And already you can feel your pussy tightening, desperate to work itself up to orgasm.

 

You fight it, though. Not wanting to finish after just a few strokes of his cock.

 

Instead, you claw at the sheets with one hand. Make the other into a fist and bite down on it. Try desperately to think of anything other than you're finally, _finally_ getting fucked and goddamn if it isn't just the _best fucking feeling_.

 

“Officer,” he grunts, easing up on his thrusting and instead pushes in until he's flush with your ass. Grinding his hips into you and you can feel your stomach flutter, the movement making you infinitely hotter.

 

“Look over there,” he says, sweeping your hair over one shoulder and pointing to one of the cameras. You both stare at yourselves on the screen, watching him take you as you arch your back, presenting yourself to him.

 

“Support yourself,” he orders. Letting go of your shoulder and your upper body drops until you rest on your elbows.

 

He starts thrusting again. Slow and deliberately deep movements that are keeping you on the edge. If you're going to cum you'll either need him to touch your clit or to really pound into you. This easy pace isn't going to be enough, despite your pussy's best efforts to pulse against him and get him moving.

 

You whine. You may have said his name. You're not sure. It's all so much to take. You just want to cum and take the edge off. Then, with as delicious as _this_ feels, you'll be happy to fuck all night long if that's what he wants.

 

Arms reach out and wrap around your torso. Pulling you back until you're sitting on your heels. The new angle makes his cock hit your insides in a different place and you throw your head back, grinding your hips on it. The tension grows in your cunt even more. Maybe you _can_ cum like this after all...

 

“Give me the camera,” he growls, sounding annoyed. He must have told you before but you couldn't hear him over the blood rushing in your ears.

 

You reach and bend down, biting your lip as his cock shifts along with you. Grab the camera and shakily hand it back to him.

 

He leans you forward a little so that you're supporting your weight on his legs and you can feel him doing something behind you.

 

“Up.”

 

You push away, until his cock barely slides out and the tip of it skims your entrance. It makes you shiver from the strain of it and now his hands cup your ass cheeks and spread them.

 

He's filming himself penetrating you. You can see it happening on the screen from the corner of your eyes.

 

Then he pushes you down onto him again and you moan. Closing your eyes as your pussy takes all of him so flawlessly.

 

You bounce on him like that for a short while. Moving enthusiastically up and down on his cock and letting out a feminine grunt every time it presses against your cervix.

 

“I want to see you, Sir,” you whimper. Wanting to clutch his shoulders and look at his face instead of his feet as you ride him.

 

Hands steady your hips, making you stop your rocking.

 

“Turn around then.”

 

You try to lift up and he holds you in place. _Oh._

 

He helps you with it. It's not the easiest or most elegant maneuver, but he helps you rotate around on his cock. The twisting motion bringing an incredible sense of every ridge and vein in his cock as it strokes against your walls.

 

You're panting by the time you're facing him and he has to clear his throat to make you open your eyes. His face is flushed and sweaty and you have to fight the urge to reach out and fix his hair. Knowing that he'd probably slap your hand away.

 

You start circling your hips in a figure eight, just like he did to your clit earlier. He pushes up into you in shallow thrusts, letting you get used to this new angle of penetration.

 

“Sir...”

 

You run your hands up and down his chest. Catching the top button and opening his shirt. He tolerates this for only three buttons before stopping your hands. Moving them up to his shoulders while he squeezes your hips.

 

He's glaring at you, but you get the feeling it's mostly as a show of power. It would be hard-pressed for him to be too seriously angry when he's currently buried in you.

 

“Move, Officer,” he demands. “And don't you _even think_ about cumming until I say you can.”

 

“Yes Sir!” you agree, shifting your hips and settling into the new position.

 

It's a lie. It's definitely a lie. Unless he lets you cum almost immediately.

 

Because that's just about all you think you can take as you start to ride him with vigor. Sliding up and down his whole length, shaking with how the new angle makes him rub against both your clit and G-spot with each stroke.

 

You set a fast pace, seeking out the shimmering wall of ecstasy that you can feel is just around the corner. Then he pushes up into you, matching you thrust for thrust. His cock head brushes something deep inside you. It feels like a spot along the very furthest part of your top wall and you mewl, your arms collapsing under you.

 

“Sir!” you whine again, dragging your face against his half-bare chest as he takes charge. Pushing your hips down in time with his thrusts up since you're suddenly too useless with pleasure to do any of the work on your own.

 

“Don't you dare...” he warns, but it's too late.

 

All it takes is one more hard hit against your cervix and you cry out. Your whole body seizing up as you're gripped by one of the most intense orgasms you've ever experienced.

 

You grasp at him. Your legs squeeze him. Your hands claw and pull at his shirt. And your pussy grips him in fractured spasms. The whole length of your passage clinging to the cock he so graciously has inside you.

 

He yanks your hair back, pulling your torso off him, but you're so mindless that you just grind down on him more. Riding out each of the waves of bliss emanating from your core.

 

“Officer!” he growls, twisting your hair so hard it hurts and you open your eyes.

 

He looks a fascinating combination of enraged that you disobeyed his direct order, and nearly besides himself with each constriction of your cunt.

 

You're still in the ending throes when he shoves you away, leaving your pussy starkly empty and pulsing against nothing.

 

“I gave you an _order_ , Officer.”

 

You watch breathlessly as he kneels over you. His angry red cock is positively drenched with your cum and in any other circumstances it would look obscene and rather threatening. However, right now, all the sight does is make your blood hum in your ears. Your body very much telling you to just give it thirty seconds and it'll be ready for round two.

 

“Are you...” you're having trouble speaking. “Are you angry, Sir?” you try again when you can.

 

He glares at you. Frowns and shakes his head as he takes the sight of you in. Somehow you know that he can't _really_ be angry. Annoyed maybe.

 

“You ruined the shot, (L/N). You know that, right?”

 

You blink up at him, feeling both sleepy and horny.

 

“What could have been a beautiful scene of you climaxing was ruined by your... your _wallowing_ all over me. I probably won't be able to use that footage at all.”

 

He crosses his arms and waits.

 

“Um... I'm sorry, Sir?”

 

You're really not. But it seems like the right thing to say.

 

He sighs and contemplates the setup of the room. No doubt still thinking about that ridiculous sex script that he'd written. His hard cock is still jutting out and you wonder how much trouble you'd be in if you just shoved him onto his back and mounted him. Probably a lot.

 

But the more you stare, the more you want it. So you roll over onto your back and spread you legs slightly. Giving him a flirty view of his most favorite of your body parts.

 

When he stares at you with an icily raised eyebrow, you reach between your legs and stroke yourself. Your clit's over-sensitized but your pussy gives a twitch of appreciation.

 

“Are you flexible, Officer?” he asks.

 

He yanks your hand away and kneels between your legs, shoving them apart more roughly than necessary. You catch on immediately, scooting your feet close to your butt and bringing your knees up.

 

“Yes, Sir. I am.”

 

You watch quietly as he tries different locations for the handheld camera. Eventually gives up and sets it on one of the pillows by your head. There are enough other cameras in the room to capture the action and you can't say you're too upset about not having it shoved at your pussy the whole time again.

 

The general throws your legs over his shoulders and aligns himself.

 

“Now _what_ are you going to do this time, Officer?” he asks. Nudges your entrance but doesn't slip inside.

 

“Not cum until you say I can,” you tell him, subtly adjusting the angle of your butt so he'll be more likely to hit your spot.

 

“And?”

 

You think about it for too long. He reaches down and gives your clit a brutal pinch, causing you to yelp and then whine when he holds it hard and doesn't let go.

 

“Um... cameras?! Look at the cameras?”

 

“Good girl.”

 

He releases you and in one smooth move pushes inside you again.

 

Your pussy takes him so beautifully, synchronized with your mind and sharing the enjoyment of this new position. The penetration has a different quality with missionary. Less about depth, though he still faintly touches the end of your passage with his thrusts. Instead there's much more of a sense of pressure that lets you feel the full size of the cock pushing through you.

 

It's a really, _really_ nice sensation. When you look up at him he's still got that angry, lust-filled grimace but now you're positive it's just his sex face.

 

To prove your point, you clench on him. Contracting your cunt and timing it with his thrusts.

 

He hisses out an expletive, leaning over you for a second before correctly himself.

 

Then he grips your ass, lifting your body up off the bed a small amount, and begins thrusting in earnest. Pushing deep and hard inside you and rocking your body with each stroke.

 

Remembering your part in this, you throw your arms up over your head as you arch your back and moan. Watching yourself on the screen and noting how perky and bouncy you tits look like this.

 

You arch more, thrusting them up towards his face, and he takes the hint. Leaning forward and wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples.

 

“ _Oh gods Sir_!” you whine. His teeth bear down, biting and sucking your skin into his mouth. It's the perfect blend of pleasure and pain and this time your cunt tightens on its own.

 

You decide to focus on that sensation. Closing your eyes before remembering to stare up at the camera on the ceiling. You point your toes and use the leverage of your legs wrapped around his shoulders to amplify his movements. Dragging him deeper into you with each thrust.

 

“ _(L/N)_.”

 

He's giving you a pointed look. Probably displeased that you're doing something more than being the perfectly docile and obedient sex doll he seems to want you to be.

 

Well, that's tough. You buck up at him, grinding your two pelvises together and giving your clit some much needed attention. _This_ he allows, maybe because he doesn't realize what you're doing or maybe because it makes your walls start to flutter around him.

 

You're getting close again. It hasn't even been that long since you last came, but you're pretty sure you're good to go as soon as he gives you permission.

 

“Sir, please,” you plead, spreading your arms over your head to you can arch your back even more. Doing everything to increase the coil of tension in your body. You're starting to lose feeling in your legs but you can't tell if it's from their raised position or all the blood in your body flowing to just the one spot.

 

“Don't tell me you're about to cum _already_ , Officer?”

 

There's so much incredulity in his voice. How is it possible that he can be so composed when you're such a wreck? Your pussy keeps threatening to spasm and it's all you can do to keep breathing and fight it.

 

“Yessir... please. I want to.”

 

“No.” He punctuates it with an extra hard thrust that has the exact opposite of his intended reaction on you.

 

“Oh please Sir! I want to so much! _Please please please please_!”

 

You chant the word over and over. Hoping that it sounds as sexy on cameras as it does in your head. What man doesn't want to hear a woman beg for their cock like that?

 

The words seem to have a strong effect on him. You swear you can feel him swelling inside you, though that might just be your cunt getting lusher in preparation for another climax.

 

“Can you cum again after this?” he asks. You close your eyes, checking yourself.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Positive?”

 

“Oh yes, Sir! _Please!_ ”

 

He huffs and you break out into a smirk when one of his hands moves from cupping your ass to rubbing your engorged clit.

 

“Fine, go ahead.”

 

He says it dismissively. Your response is anything but.

 

This time you have more control of your climax. Rather than the frenzied, grinding _'wallow'_ you did before, you focus on making this one look as good as it feels.

 

Arching, moaning, begging? Check, check, check. You cum loudly and spectacularly, like a proper porn star should. Luxuriating in each of the intense and full-body contractions that pulse through you while making a show of breathily praising every attribute of the cock in you.

 

The General doesn't stop thrusting, but he takes his hand off your clit. You stare up at him, willing your body to cum for as long as it can while the whole bed rocks with his movements.

 

Then you make a mistake and kiss him. You hadn't meant to, but you were so caught up in your own pleasure that you do it without thinking. Reach up, cup his head, and bring your mouth to his. He hadn't specifically said that you couldn't but you knew he wouldn't like it.

 

And he doesn't. After a moment of surprise, he tears his mouth away from yours. Gives you an offended look and shoves you back down from him.

 

“Control yourself, Officer,” he mutters.

 

Then maybe he sees your expression or maybe he feels bad for being such a prick because his glare softens and he sighs. He strokes your face once. Then places both of his hands by your head and starts his rhythm again. It brings your faces closer together but you don't dare repeat the move. Ignoring the slight twinge of hurt from his rejection in favor of letting your body do whatever it wants to do.

 

You still hadn't finished climaxing and his constant thrusts are extending it. Your pussy keeps seizing up and it doesn't exactly feel good anymore but it doesn't feel bad either.

 

“Over,” he tells you. Pulling out without warning.

 

Then he flips you back onto your hands and knees. Spread your legs and tangles one hand into your hair. He pulls your scalp, making you arch your back and gasp when he breaches you yet again.

 

You stare at the screen. Watching yourself get taken like this. His movements are rough and jerky, causing you some discomfort as he slams on your cervix. Aided by the greater levels of depth the doggy position allows him.

  
There's still enough pleasure in your body, though. Twinges pulse through your cunt as he strokes it. So you relax and let him pound into you. His face is red and the flush spreads all the way down to his half exposed chest. You like seeing that, and like it even more when he leans over you.

 

“One more time, Officer,” he demands. His breath washes across your skin, chilly against your sweaty back.

 

You're not sure that you can. But one of your hands reaches down to play with your clit. Trying to coax at least a weak orgasm out of your body. You have trouble holding yourself up with just the one arm, and he lets go of your hair to hold onto your shoulder. Taking some of your weight off.

 

His thrusts are becoming more erratic. But he doesn't slow down or stop and neither do you. Furiously rubbing and tugging on your tired clit. Bypassing it's pleasure and pulsing stage and trying to bring yourself immediately to climax.

 

It sort of works. Your body is suddenly gripped by violent series of clenches. You cry out, squeezing him for all he's worth. He shouts out your name and spills into you, pushing so hard you topple over. Lay there while he pumps away, your bodies making a vulgar squishing noise as your combined cum leaks out with his vigorous movements.

 

When he eventually finishes he collapses on top of you and you grunt from the weight. He strokes your back in a fumbling sort of way and your pussy gives him your last few pulses before he pulls out.

 

Then he rolls away. Off of you and you both lay there in silence for a moment. You bite your lip, feeling all of his cum coating your insides. It feels different then your own wetness, though you're not sure exactly how you can tell the difference.

 

Before the quiet can become awkward, however, you make yourself sit up. Scoot onto your butt and bring your heels in. Wince at the sensation of rubbed-raw nerves in your cunt.

 

“Was that good, Sir?” you ask, looking over at him with a soft smile.

 

He's laying on his back, staring at you from the corner of his eye. He'd already put himself back in his pants and you snort. That was _your_ job, but oh well.

 

“Perfect, Officer,” he says after a while.

 

You quite like when he uses that word to describe you. In makes you blush and you reach over to the end table. Open up the drawer to get the tissues but they're not there. Instead you find a box of cigarettes and a lighter.

 

You pull them out and offer them to him amiably. He almost smiles when he takes them from you. As your body starts to cool down you sit there and quietly watch him smoke. Background thoughts start to come to the forefront but you brush them away. There will be plenty of time for rumination later.

 

A hand on your shoulder stops you when you try to leave the bed. The smoke from the cigarette clutched in his fingers stings your eyes, but you ignore it.

 

“Just one more thing, (L/N),” he tells you.

 

He pushes himself up to sitting and reaches for the camera on the pillow next to him.

 

“Oh. Alright, Sir.”

 

You fluff your hair and wipe your face with the back of your hand in case your makeup is a mess. Wanting to look pretty for the mandatory final shot.

 

He gets out of bed and walks around to your side. Stands over you and you lean back onto your elbows. Keeping your legs together but presenting your naked torso for his inspection.

 

“Did you enjoy yourself, Officer?” he asks, panning the camera slowly up and down your body.

 

“Yes, Sir. Very much so.” You smile as he zooms in on your face. “I haven't gotten fucked like that in a long time. Thank you, Sir.”

 

He huffs. You look sweetly into the camera.

 

“You're very welcome, Officer. What part was your favorite?”

 

You pretend to think about. Lean back more and give your body a little wiggle. Making your breasts bounce and sway as the camera moves across them.

 

“My necklace, Sir. Unfortunately, it seems we made a mess of it.” You look down and pout at your now semen-smeared chest.

 

He scoffs at that. Seeming to genuinely enjoy you being so silly.

 

Then he sits down at the bottom of the bed and holds one of your knees.

 

“Open,” he orders.

 

You fight the urge to sigh. _Again_ with this? Jeeze, you'd think he'd seen it enough by now...

 

But he gives a tug with his hand and you relent. Letting your knees flop open. Hide the roll of your eyes when he repositions your legs to however he wants them and brings his camera between them.

 

You jolt when his hand reaches out and gently parts your folds. You're still incredibly sensitive and your breath catches when he penetrates you with two fingers.

 

“Sir...” you whine when he twists them in you, making a beckoning gesture. He pulls out and you feel a fresh stream of his semen leak from of you.

 

“Is it really... do you _have_ to film this?”

 

Getting fingered was hot when it was during foreplay. But now... it's starting to gross you out.

“Yes,” he says simply. “I do.”

 

He presses on your abused clit like it's a button. It triggers a reflexive spasm in your cunt that pushes even more cum out.

 

Okay, that's enough. You push yourself up and close your legs. Swing them down onto the floor before he can catch your ankle to hold you in place.

 

“I'd like to clean up now, Sir.”

 

He seems to debate arguing with you, but eventually relents.

 

“The bathroom is that way,” he points at a door on the far wall. “Wash up and then I'll walk you back to your room.”

 

You get up and immediately feel the sweet soreness in your body. Seriously, you need to get fucked like this more often.

 

The General sits down on the edge of the bed, going over the most recent footage on the camera.

 

“I'll have to find a new shade of roses for you, (L/N).”

 

You frown. Then get an inkling of what he may be referring to and hurry off to the bathroom to hide your blushing face.

 

*

 

You'd rushed through your shower. Wanting to just get it over with and get back to the sanctuary of your room as soon as possible.

 

Try as you might to fight it, an incredible and consuming mortification starts to sweep over you. There aren't even words... you can't try to define what you're feeling right now. Or you'll risk some sort of highly embarrassing display in front of a man who still is your boss, despite you knowing his cock extremely intimately now.

 

You leave the bathroom wearing a towel and with wet hair. The bedroom is empty but all the cameras are still on.

  
Randomly you wonder who is going to take down this whole setup. Who gets the honor of removing the cum and sweat soaked sheets.

 

You hurry up and get dressed quickly. Finger-combing your hair and then steadying yourself as you open the door.

 

The suite is empty. For a second your heart falls and you nearly break out into tears. Emotions toeing on the edge with every wave of doubt and shame that you repress. Maybe it's better this way, though. Not having to see him right now when you're so... unbalanced.

 

But, of course, when you open the main door the General is standing there. Waiting for you. He looks every bit the pristine and unreachable man that you still know next to nothing of.

 

Behind him are two stormtroopers to serve as an escort. You wonder if they have any idea what this was all about. They probably do. It must be so obvious when a bleary eyed woman with wet hair is being waited on by the General this late at night.

 

“Are you ready, Officer?” he asks. Tiny threads of annoyance lacing through his voice at your hesitation.

 

You nod. Not trusting your voice.

 

The stormtroopers walk several paces ahead. Clearing the hallway of any crew that are still out this late. Of which there are very few and you are quite grateful. The last thing you need is for some nosy gossip to see the two of you together.

 

You stay quiet on the walk back. The silence is uncomfortable but the only other option is making benign smalltalk which you don't think you can handle right now.

 

When you arrive at your door you open it and start to say a polite goodbye when he pushes in past you. Walking into your private quarters and you glance nervously at the two troops who are watching and waiting.

 

You go in and find the General pacing the small front room, looking around.

 

“Did you throw it away?” he asks.

 

“What?”

 

“Your rose?”

 

His question brings a very small smile to your face. Even the tiniest piece of sentimentality is appreciated right now.

 

“It's in my bedroom, Sir. Thank you for it. It was beautiful.”

 

He stops pacing and nods. Then clasps his hands behind his back and looks down. You wait for him to say whatever's on his mind.

 

“(L/N)...” he says after a moment. Pulling his brows together as he regards you. You wonder how you must look to him right now.

 

Then he takes a step toward you. You worry your lower lip with your teeth and try not to fidget. He sighs at your obvious discomfort.

 

“You are very young, (L/N). Perhaps... there were a few moments that I'd forgotten that.”

 

You look up at him. The expression on his face is nearly soft. Not quite. But nearly.

 

He reaches out and cups your chin. Without saying another word his thumb rubs circles along your cheek. You stay quiet. Swallow when you have to. He lets go of you and steps away with a nod.

 

“Goodnight,” he says simply. Then turns on his heel and leaves.

 

You stare at the door for a good minute. Baffled and feeling oddly at peace. That was as close to an apology for being a prick as you can ever expect from him, but you'll accept it.

 

Then you shake yourself out of your fog and go to the bathroom. Pausing to collect yourself before you look in the mirror.

 

You look... vital. Vibrant and full of life. Your recent chain of orgasms bringing a glow to your skin and a beautiful flush to your cheeks. That must have been why he'd touched you.

 

But isn't that just _ridiculous_? Even nature is working against you. You strive hard to take care of yourself. Be strong and independent. But all it takes is a deep and thorough fucking to remind you how tied you are to your own biology.

 

You splash cold water on your face. Brush your teeth then throw the brush out in case there was still any cum left in your mouth. You can feel the remnants of tingles between your legs. Sparking back to life as they listen to your background thoughts.

 

And that’s ridiculous, too. You've cum three times in the last hour and yet your body is ready and intrigued to go again.

 

Maybe that's part of the benefits of being a girl? Or maybe it's a minus...

 

Regardless, you leave the bathroom and curl up on the couch. Turn on the TV to something vapid and numbing. You scan your datapad even if you're not sure what you're looking for. The saved page that comes up first is titled “ _take a cock like a porno queen_ ”. It was one sites that you'd been looking at before you left that evening.

 

 _Good gods_... You can't delete your browsing history fast enough. It's not that you're ashamed, per se. Just that...

 

What? You're not even sure. Maybe it's easier to pretend that the last few hours were nothing more than an exceptionally vivid fantasy. Rewrite the truth to better suit the lies you need to tell yourself at that moment.

 

2:17AM. That's the time. You're mildly impressed with yourself that you'd spent the last three hours fucking. Pre-fucking and post-fucking and fucking-fucking. That definitely sets a new personal best.

 

That line of thought's definitely not helping right now, though.

 

So you set the datapad down and curl up under a throw blanket. Watch ridiculous staged TV until you eventually pass out into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I made it! And it “only” took me one month to the day from the first chapter ;)
> 
> This was, like... so long. So many words. I don't know how it got to be such a long chapter. AND I had edited it severely from the first draft. By the end of the second pass I was about ready to slap poor Reader and tell her “bitch, you'd better learn to cum faster!”
> 
> And this was my first completed (?) multi-chapter fic. How insane is it that I wrote my first raunchy fic just 3 months ago and nearly gave myself a conniption and now it's genuinely disturbing how much easier writing porn is becoming. That whole thing about not opening doors if you can't handle what's on the other side or something like that...
> 
> ANYHOO, I'm leaving this one open to more chapters though I make no guarantees. I have a few ideas, but I'm DEFINITELY open to any ideas/requests/prompts that anyone has in mind.


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